


Interstices

by Awahili



Series: Determinant [27]
Category: Zoo (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Filler, Series Rewrite, Shameless Fluff For the First Few Chapters, Taking Care of the Time Gap, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-03-11 03:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13515759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awahili/pseuds/Awahili
Summary: "In every moment of choice, you create a new destiny." Jamie, Mitch and the others try to find their place while dealing with the aftermath of the cure and the sterilization of the human race. Takes place between Seasons 2 and 3. A Jamie/Mitch rewrite.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
> 
> Interstice: An intervening space; A small or narrow interval between parts.

Jamie didn’t sleep much that night. She laid in her bed alone, curled on her side as her mind refused to quiet down. So much had happened that she could scarcely believe it was real. Mitch was alive. She had been on a roller coaster of emotions ever since Jackson had dragged her from the compound on Pangaea. Anger, grief, sorrow, anxiety, relief...it was enough to exhaust even the most stalwart of minds. 

A soft knock on her door startled her, and she sat up with a quiet call to enter. The door slid away, allowing Mitch to step inside. He closed it behind him and crossed the small distance to sit on her bed. He’d left her a few hours before to be with his daughter but he’d promised to come back when she was asleep.

“Hey.” The blankets pooled in her lap as she slid back to rest against the pillows. “How’s Clem?”

“She’s good,” Mitch smiled as he limped slowly to the bed and lowered himself down gingerly. “She’s been through so much - too much. It’ll take some time, but she’ll be okay.” He paused a beat, then caught her gaze with his own. “How are you?”

“Processing,” she told him honestly. “I…” She didn’t really know the answer to his question; she was still experiencing too many emotions to properly describe her state of mind to him. She could, however, tell him one thing. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.” He reached for her hand anyway, and she couldn’t help but latch on. She felt her breath hitch as he lifted her knuckles to his lips, letting them linger on her skin for a long moment. “And I’m sorry for the pain it caused, but I would do it again. If it meant saving Clem, saving you...I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“I know.” She didn’t reclaim her hand, and she saw the small smile that tugged at his lips as he ran his thumb gently across her fingers. 

“I have a question for you,” he said after a few moments. “And you can say no, if you feel like it’s too much.” Jamie felt her heart pounding furiously in her chest in anticipation of his next words. They’d been through so much, and though they’d had a few conversations about their future, they’d always been so focused on their mission to really make any concrete plans. But he sounded so serious now, so hopeful, and Jamie had to remind herself to breathe as she encouraged him to continue.

“Okay…”

He met her gaze firmly, his fingers tightening around hers. “Would you change my bandages?”

It hadn’t been as bad as she’d imagined, but it was still pretty gruesome. Mitch walked her through the worst of it, from how to peel away the old gauze to how tight to wrap the large bandage around his midsection. Someone had stitched up the three long gashes in his right side, dangerously close to his kidney. The one on his brow was shallower, and she replaced the butterfly bandage there last. 

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “It’s not so bad with the drugs, though. There’s a bottle of painkillers on my dresser with my name on it.”

“Well, until then…” She gently grasped either side of his face and pulled him down to press her lips against the bandage. It was something her aunt has always done whenever one of them had come home with any kind of injury. Even the major ones had earned a kiss on the head, and without fail the pain had subsided.

“Much better,” he smiled. “Thanks.” He packed the first aid kit away and stood. “I have to get back to Clem. I’m sorry I can’t…” he gestured to her bed awkwardly.

Jamie just shook her head. “No, it’s fine. You need to be with your daughter. I understand. Just...don’t disappear, okay? I swear to God, if I wake up tomorrow and find out this was all a dream…”

He surged forward and kissed her, heedless of the injuries that were undoubtedly causing him a significant amount of pain. “I promise it’s not a dream. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He kissed her once more. “I love you.”

Jamie hadn’t been sure she’d ever hear those words from him again. Hearing them now brought tears to her eyes. “I love you, too.”

She finally let him go - if she didn’t do it now, he’d never leave. Once he was gone she laid back down, and this time sleep came much more easily.

Jackson, Dariela and Abe were gathered in the kitchen the next morning when she arrived. Logan had apparently disappeared some time in the night, but Jamie didn’t have it in her to care. He’d come through by finding Clem, but as far as Jamie was concerned he’d repaid the debt he owed by betraying them to Davies in the first place. She hoped he found something in this new world that made him happy, but she had a feeling they would never see him again.

The news was already reporting the success of the cure, and all around the world people were celebrating. Jamie knew their lives were about to get very, very busy. Mitch would likely be contacted by every major science journal and publication in regards to the cure, and the others would be interviewed by the government and press alike. It was going to be a PR nightmare. 

Jamie grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter and slid into the chair next to Jackson. He smiled at her warmly and bid her a good morning.

“Where’s Mitch?” He hadn’t been in his room when she’d finally dragged herself from bed (she’d checked) and Clem was missing as well. She had a very brief flash of fear that it really _had_ all been a dream, but the contented faces of her friends - as well as the rather excited pup begging for breakfast scraps at Dariela’s feet - told her otherwise. 

“In the conference room, talking to Allison. Apparently she’s arranging for him to speak at some big meeting in Washington next week.”

“Bet he loves that,” Jamie laughed. Mitch hated formal functions, but she had a feeling he’d been wearing more than his fair share of ties before this whole thing settled down. “And Clem?”

“Getting a flying lesson from Trotter,” Abe answered. “She begged Mitch this morning until he relented.”

Jamie nodded thoughtfully and munched on her banana. Mitch had quite a bit of paternal guilt where Clementine was concerned; it would be easy enough for Clem to take advantage of it to get anything she wanted. She seemed like a good kid, though, and a lesson in flying wasn’t the worst thing she could ask for.

“So what’s next for you guys?”

Jackson glanced at Abe before answering. “I’m not sure. We talked about going back to Botswana, but now…”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence; Jamie knew what he meant. The entire world would soon learn the effects of the TX-14 gas. Every scientist on the planet would be put to work to solve the problem. The notes they had gotten from Pangaea would be critical in beginning to crack the mystery, but it would likely be a marathon rather than a sprint. It was going to take time.

Jamie finished her fruit and tossed the peel in the trash. “If no one has any objections, I’d like to go to California. Mitch’s mom is in a safe zone there. Then we can all go to my aunt and uncle’s house in Louisiana for a while. I think we’ve earned a break, don’t you?”

“Sounds good to me,” Dariela agreed. “It’ll be nice to sleep under a real roof.”

“Great, I’ll go tell Trotter.”

She found him standing just behind the pilot’s chair pointing at something on the console. Clem was sitting in the plush chair completely focused on the instructions. Jamie let them go for a moment, unwilling to interrupt Clem’s obvious delight as she soaked in the information. She was a lot like her dad, Jamie noticed, though she looked nothing like him. Except that smile. The slight pull at the corner of her lips as she worked through the steps for take off reminded Jamie of a certain scientist performing a complex procedure.

Finally the lesson was over and Jamie cleared her throat quietly. Trotter looked up with a guilty look, but Jamie just smiled. “Having fun?”

“Trotter’s just showing me how to fly,” Clem said shortly. She seemed almost distant, not at all like the sweet girl Jamie had consoled just yesterday. 

Jamie tried not to take offense - the girl had been through so much in the past few days, she was likely still processing it all. “Okay, well maybe Trotter can show you how to make a flight plan.”

The graying pilot nodded knowingly. “Where to?”

“California,” Jamie said. “Safe Zone Four near Sacramento.”

“I’ll grab the coordinates from the computer,” he told her. “We’ll be airborne just as soon as I can do a pre-flight.”

Jamie nodded her thanks. “I’ll go tell the others.”

She warned the group in the kitchen of their impending take off before moving through the lab to the conference room. Mitch’s sharp tenor floated through the door as he lost whatever argument he was having with Allison.

“Fine,” he barked. “Just figure it out and tell me where you need me to be.” Jamie pushed the door open just as Allison’s image winked out and Mitch turned. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. How you feeling?”

“Like I got mauled by hybrids,” he joked flatly. He must have seen on her face the pain his words caused because he reached out almost immediately. She slipped her hand in his and moved to stand close enough she could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Sorry,” he kissed her head. “Are those the engines warming up?”

“Yeah. We’re wheels up for California soon. Trotter is showing Clem how to log a flight plan.”

Mitch smiled and lifted his good arm around her shoulders. “Any idea what flight school costs? Wait, California?”

“I figured we’d go get your mom, then head back to Louisiana. Unless you don’t want to…”

“No. I mean, yes that’s fine. I just...you’re amazing. Thank you.”

She lifted up to her toes to kiss him. “You’re welcome. I’m gonna go call Aunt Fran and let her know about the impending invasion.” At Mitch’s look she clarified. “Jackson, Abe and Dariela are coming with us.”

“That’ll be fun.” 

She ignored his dry remarks and retreated to her room to call her aunt. It wasn’t quite as tearful as the last conversation, but Jamie was glad to hear that her family had survived the gas drop unscathed. She’d been a little afraid that one or more of them would have the ghost gene, but the odds had been in their favor and the only life claimed by the animal rebellion had been her cousin, Stephen. With plans set and goodbyes said, Jamie slipped her phone into her pocket and moved to the nearest seat to buckle in for take off. 

Trotter came over the comms a few minutes later. “It’ll be three hours to Sacramento, folks. Skies look clear, so it should be smooth sailing.”

Jamie unbuckled and went looking for Mitch. He needed to rest, and she knew he wouldn’t unless someone made him. She made a beeline for the lab, unsurprised to find him hunched over keyboard trying to type.

“Need a hand?” she rested her hip against the table a few feet from him. “Or two?”

He gave her a rueful smile. “I’m trying to document, well, everything. Organize my thoughts. It’s a little slow going with one hand.” 

Jamie looked up at the screen where he’d managed a few sentences. “You spelled ‘synthetic’ wrong.”

“Cheeky.” 

“Seriously, though. Want some help?”

He rolled back and stood, gesturing with his good hand. “How are you at taking dictation?”

She took his place and slid up to the keyboard. “I’ve always wanted to be someone’s amanuensis.”

Mitch’s answering grin was equal parts teasing and wicked. “Well, we can talk about that later. Right now I just need you to type what I say.”

Two hours of typing proved too much even for Jamie’s experienced fingers. After the third time she had to massage out a cramp, Mitch called it quits.

“We’ll be landing soon,” he reasoned. “I should probably find out where Clem wandered off to.”

“She’s probably flying the plane right now,” Jamie joked as she stood and stretched. “Trotter’s a pushover.” 

“Should I have a talk with him?” Jamie came up on his good side and smiled as he draped his arm around her shoulder.

“Maybe,” she played along. “He did seem smitten.”

Clem was in the kitchen scrounging for a snack when they entered. Mitch stepped away from Jamie and moved to help her reach a box of vanilla wafers from the cupboard. “Hey sweetie.”

“Hi.” 

Jamie noticed the quick side glance Clem gave her as she opened the box and unclipped the plastic bag inside. Mitch, however, seemed oblivious to it as he grabbed a bottle of water for himself and one for Jamie.

“I heard Trotter’s been showing you some stuff,” he began lamely. Clem just shrugged. “Have you been up there with him the whole time?”

“Not the whole time,” Clem munched on a cookie. “I went down to the lab looking for you, but you seemed busy so I came up here instead.”

“We were just typing up some notes on the cure,” Mitch explained as he reached across the island to hand Jamie her water. “Did you need something?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Mitch leaned back against the counter. “Well, did you have fun with Trotter?” Clem shrugged again. “Clem, I-”

“I need to check on Henry,” Clem dropped the still-open box of cookies onto the counter and left quickly, leaving a flustered Mitch in her wake.

He shifted his weight forward to follow her, but Jamie held up her hand. “Can I talk to her? I think I might know what this is about.”

“What?”

“I’d like to talk to Clem about it first, if you don’t mind.” When Mitch gestured grandly, she moved around the island to give him a quick kiss. “It’ll be okay.” He looked skeptical - and maybe a little fearful - and Jamie had to remind herself that he’d just become a single father rather quickly and was likely still adjusting. She left him standing alone in the kitchen and went in search of the girl.

Clem was curled up on Mitch’s bed with Henry’s head lying across her feet. Jamie knocked softly even as she slid the half-open door back to step inside. “Hey, Clem. Can we talk for a sec?”

The sour expression on her face confirmed Jamie’s suspicions. Still, she sat up and shrugged a shoulder noncommittally. “About what?”

Jamie posted up against the dresser to give the girl some space, at least until Jamie could get a feel for where Clem’s head was. “Whatever’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

“There is,” Jamie pressed, “but I don’t want to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you ever do want to talk. I know what you’re going through right now.”

“No you don’t,” Clem argued.

“I do. My mom died when I was about your age.”

That got her attention, and the crease on her brow soften a little as her curiosity edged out the anger Jamie could see in her eyes. “She did?”

“Yeah,” Jamie pushed off the dresser and moved a bit closer. “Cancer. And then my dad left right after she died. I felt so alone, and angry. I remember lashing out at my aunt and uncle all the time because being angry was easier than being sad.” Clem looked like she understood the sentiment. “You’ve gone through a lot, sweetie, and it’s okay for you to be upset. We know it’s a big adjustment. I just want you to know that your dad loves you _so_ much. You’re the most important person in the world to him.”

At this, Clem looked up with the same doubtful expression Mitch had given her just minutes ago. Jamie suppressed the urge to smile and urged the girl to say whatever was on her mind.

Clem swallowed and looked down at the blanket under her, picking at an invisible thread as she spoke. “More important than you?”

Jamie closed the remaining distance and sat down on the edge of the bed. There was still a couple of feet of space between them, but Jamie left it there. It would be Clementine’s decision to let her get closer, both physically and emotionally, but Jamie wanted to be able to speak face to face with the girl.

“Hey.” She waited until Clem looked up and resisted the urge to soothe away the tears she saw gathering in the girl’s eyes. “Can I ask you a question?” A quick nod. “When your mom married Justin, did she love you any less?”

“No.”

“It’s the same with your dad. We love each other, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

“Are you gonna get married?”

It was a blunt question, one Jamie had expected when she started the topic. But despite the few brief conversations they’d had, Jamie had never really given much thought to the future. With the world ending and animals trying to kill them at every juncture, it was hard to imagine any farther than a few days ahead. But as Clem voiced the the question aloud, she knew the answer as sure as she knew her own name.

“Yeah, we are. But it’s not gonna happen tomorrow, okay? We all need some time to adjust to everything.” Clem nodded, and Jamie was happy to see most of the coldness in her eyes fade away. “In the meantime, would it be okay for you and me to get to know each other better?”

That dubious look was back. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know your dad pretty well. I’d like to get to know you, too.” Jamie reached out to scratch Henry behind his ears, smiling when he whined in appreciation.

Clem smiled, too, and her fingers sifted through his golden fur lovingly. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Jamie stood up, not wanting to push too hard, too fast. She was halfway out the door when Clem’s voice stopped her.

“Jamie?” 

“Yeah?”

She was back to being shy. “Can you...could you tell me about my dad, too? Since you know him, and all?”

Jamie smiled and stepped back inside, this time sliding the door closed. “Of course.” She sat back on the bed. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything,” Clem said. “I mean...I used to pretend that Henry would go see him every night after I went to sleep. He’d let Dad know how I was, and then he’d come back and tell me stuff about him. Just made up stuff,” she continued almost timidly. “Like, he invented chocolate milk.”

Jamie laughed softly. “Well, he didn’t invent it. But he likes it. And he likes pickles and coffee.” At Clem’s disgusted look she clarified. “Not together.”

“What else?”

“Well, loves Soundgarden. They’re a band, or they were. Maybe they still are, I don’t know. And he _loves_ crossword puzzles. All puzzles, really.” Jamie felt her smile soften as she thought about Mitch’s enthusiasm when faced with a good mystery and didn’t bother hiding it from Clem’s scrutinizing stare. “He’s really, really, smart. And funny, but don’t tell him I told you.” They shared a conspiratorial smile, and finally Jamie felt like they were on good footing again.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Jamie glanced back at Henry, giving him one more gentle pat on the head. “I’m sure Henry needs to run around for a bit. When we land maybe Abe and Dariela can take you and Henry outside, and I’ll see what we can do about getting him some food.”

The intercom crackled to life on the wall as Trotter announced they would be landing soon. Clem scrambled off the bed and dashed for the door, eager to watch the landing procedures from the best view on the plane. Jamie laughed and followed, stopping only when she caught a shadow lurking just beyond the hall.

“Mitch,” she called him out and waited until he slinked around the corner. “Were you listening in on our private conversation?”

“You mean the one you were having in _my_ room?” he answered cheekily.

Jamie just crossed her arms over her chest. “Mitch.”

“I’m sorry,” he held out his hands to stave off an argument. “If it helps, I only heard the last part.”

Jamie just rolled her eyes and stalked past him. The nearest jump seats were in the hall next to the lounge, and Mitch followed her quickly as the plane dipped slightly. He seemed to sense her irritation with him and wisely stayed silent as they buckled in. Jamie’s stomach flipped as they began to descend, and she unconsciously tightened her straps a bit more. Mitch braved her ire and reached for her hand, and Jamie practically felt him sigh in relief as she allowed it. 

“So,” he said after a long while. “You think I’m funny?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team flies to California to find Mitch's mom. Family fluff ensues.

Safe Zone Four was in complete and total chaos when he walked through the front doors. Dozens of people were clamoring to speak, all demanding information or shouting into their cell phones to be heard above the din. Apparently news of the cure had spurred a mass exodus from the thousands of people living inside the zone’s gates, but many people had nowhere to go. Los Angeles was still under martial law, along with dozens of other major cities across the country. Sacramento, San Diego and San Francisco had all remained relatively unscathed, though looting and general panic meant they were still unsafe to live in for the time being. 

Mitch turned sideways to slip between two people, wincing as his bad arm was jostled slightly in the crowd. He was beginning to regret not having Abe come along; he could have cleared a path easily. Instead he’d accepted Dariela’s offer to accompany him. Her knowledge of military protocol and government red tape would likely be useful in getting to his mom as quickly as possible. Jamie had volunteered to stay behind with Clem, and there had been something in her tone that told Mitch there was more to her request than altruism. 

He’d fibbed a little when Jamie had asked him earlier - he’d heard most of the conversation she’d had with his daughter. Just knowing Clem felt like he would love her less just because of his relationship with Jamie...it broke his heart. But Jamie had proved once again that she was far better than he was at dealing with other people’s emotions, and Mitch smiled as he remembered the rest of the conversation.

“I’m not sure what’s so funny about this, professor,” Dariela grumbled as she shouldered past another small group of people. “Do you see anyone who looks like they could be in charge?”

Mitch craned his neck up, ignoring the twinge of pain that shot through his chest, and frowned. “No. I don’t see any uniforms.”

“Alright,” she stopped and glanced around. “Time for Plan B.” She snagged a chair just as a young man stood up to greet someone and slid it toward her. Even standing on it she was barely above head height, but then she straightened her back and projected her voice above the noise. “Excuse me! Can I have your attention, please!” She had a note of authority that made almost everyone in the immediate vicinity stop what they were doing and turn. The effect rippled through the gathered crowd, and soon she had hundreds of expectant eyes on her. “Thank you,” she said in the same official tone. “Now, I know all of you are waiting for information about what’s going on out there and you want to see your families. I can assure you that the people in charge are doing the best they can to get to everyone as quickly as possible.”

“Is it true?” One man shouted from near the back. “Are the animals cured?” The news had reported it, but apparently skepticism was high among most of the population.

“Yes,” Dariela nodded, and an excited murmur rose from the crowd. “But there are still procedures to be followed, checks that need to be done to make sure it’s safe for you to return to your homes. So if everyone could be patient, things will run a whole lot smoother.” 

Mitch was impressed with her command of the situation, but that still didn’t help them find his mother. He cleared his throat pointedly and Dariela seemed to remember why she’d jumped up on the chair in the first place.

“Now, I’m looking for a woman who’s here at the safe zone. Her name is…” she glanced down at Mitch, who whispered the name quickly, “Dianne Morgan. Does anyone know Dianne?”

“I do,” an older gentleman raised his hand. “I saw her this morning at breakfast.”

“Great,” Dariela hopped down off the chair and made her way over to him with Mitch on her heels. “Do you know where I can find her?”

Mitch probably should have guessed it. His mother had always had a green thumb, and gardening had been a hobby of hers long before the animals had gone crazy. It made sense that she’d spend most of her days tending to the safe zone’s small courtyard garden, safely enclosed in the center of the facility. Artificial lamps gave the space a greenhouse feel, and Mitch could feel himself start to sweat the moment he stepped through the door. Dariela had opted to remain indoors, both for her own comfort and to give Mitch and his mom a moment of privacy.

She was sitting in a rocking chair on the far side of the garden, her head angled down to read the book that was splayed open in her lap. Mitch froze for a moment as he caught sight of her. It had been over two years since he’d seen her, not counting the video message Jamie had recorded. She looked just like he remembered, though there was more gray in her hair than blonde. She had the same wire-framed glasses attached to a chain around her neck, though they sat a bit lower on her nose now as she read. She wore dirt-streaked jeans and an old, gray t-shirt that Mitch recognized as one of her school spirit shirts from the high school in Alabama. The Blue Devils logo on the front was worn and faded from time and many washes, but Mitch knew it well.

Finally, he couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Hi, Mom.”

Dianne Morgan glanced up sharply as Mitch walked over, and he saw every single emotion play out on her face as she processed what she was seeing - shock, disbelief, and finally joy. Her book tumbled to the ground as she scrambled to her feet, and Mitch closed the last of the distance between them to wrap his good arm around her. His ribs protested her tight hug but he didn’t care.

“Mitch! Oh, Mitch, you’re _here_.” Her chin had lifted over his shoulder as she hugged him, and even though he was taller by almost half a foot, Mitch couldn’t help but feel like a little boy again in the arms of his mother. He could hear the tears in her voice as she exclaimed again, and when Mitch felt his own stinging his eyes he didn’t bother trying to fight them.

“Yeah, Mom,” he whispered into her hair, “I’m here. I’m here.”

Dianne finally seemed to hear the pain he was trying to hide, and she pulled back to inspect his injuries. Most of them were hidden by his clothes, but the sling on his right arm was hard to miss. “What happened?”

“I got attacked by animals,” he told her simply. “But I’m alright, Mom. I promise.”

“Attacked?” she repeated. “Mitch, what’s going on?”

“It’s over, Mom.” Mitch smiled down at her, accepting her fussy movements as she adjusted his sling and inspected the bandage on his forehead. “The animals are cured.”

Her smile was brighter than the sun, and there was no missing the pride in her tone as she spoke. “You did it.”

“Well, not just me. I mean, I have a team. They helped.” Mitch winced at how that sounded, then amended, “I mean, I couldn’t have done it without them.”

“Mitch, have you made actual friends?” She was teasing - he could hear it in her voice - but the very real surprise that accompanied it made him roll his eyes.

“Yes, Mom. I have friends. Don’t look so shocked.”

Dianne smiled again and pulled him back in for a hug. “I’m just teasing, Mitch. Oh, I’ve been so worried about you.”

“I know,” he returned her embrace gently, and Dianne seemed to remember he was hurt. She stepped back as he continued. “I got your message.”

“Oh,” Dianne startled as if she’d just remembered something important. “How is Jamie? I was so glad to see she survived the crash.”

“Me, too, Mom.” It was an understatement, but there was no way he was going to give his mom all of the awful details. He wasn’t terribly proud of how he’d handled everything last year, and now that Jamie was back where she belonged he was happy to just forget that part of his life altogether. “She’s good,” he answered her question with a smile, which prompted another teasing grin from his mother. “She’s with Clem right now.”

At the mention of her only granddaughter, Dianne Morgan reached out to squeeze Mitch’s hand. “Clementine? Why is she here?”

“Audra and Justin…” he trailed off, unsure how to say it. He swallowed and shook his head sadly. “They didn’t make it.”

“Oh, that poor girl. And her illness?”

“Gone,” Mitch said, his voice morphing from sorrow to happiness in an instant. “She took medication from an experimental trial that completely eradicated it. She’s cured.”

“That’s amazing! Oh, I haven’t seen her since she was a baby.” 

“Well, if you want to go get your things, we can get you out of here so you can see her and meet the others.” He turned to steer her toward the door, eager to get back to the others. Once inside, he introduced her to Dariela.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Morgan,” Dariela greeted politely. 

“You as well, dear. Thank you for looking out for my son. He tends to get himself into all kinds of trouble when left on his own.”

“Standing right here,” Mitch sighed. She was already ganging up on him with Dariela - he didn’t even want to imagine how it going to be with Jamie. 

“I’ll go get my things and meet you out front.”

It took her almost fifteen minutes, but Mitch wasn’t surprised when she emerged from the doors with only a small duffel bag. Dianne Morgan had never been accused of being high maintenance.

“That it?” Dariela asked. Dianne nodded and tossed her bag into the backseat of the Hummer before climbing in. Mitch was driving, leaving the two women to chat about whatever as he tried to remember the way back to the plane. 

“You live on the plane?” Dianne exclaimed. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. Who pays for the fuel?”

“The government,” Mitch answered quickly before Dariela could drop Allison’s name. His mother had disliked Allison from the beginning (which, honestly, should have been a big clue), but ever since the debacle at the gala and her subsequent marriage to Max, Allison’s name was taboo in Dianne’s presence. He was not looking forward to telling his mother about her involvement or how he was still going to have to deal with her in the near future as things gradually settled down.

Dariela got the hint and changed the subject, moving to their plans to fly to Louisiana as soon as possible. 

Dianne seemed surprised. “Jamie’s family doesn’t mind all of us dropping in and staying for a while?”

“Nah,” Mitch glanced at her in the rearview briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Her aunt will love the company. The house is certainly big enough for all of us.” He realized his mistake a second too late.

“And how would you know that?” Dianne asked knowingly.

“Mom,” Mitch’s exasperation was evident, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Dariela trying and failing to hide a smile. “Stop that.”

“What?” Dariela shrugged innocently.

“I’m beginning to think this was a bad idea,” he grumbled as he pulled onto the small road that led to the airfield. As they approached the plane he could see several figures running around in the green field about fifty meters from the plane. Henry was bounding between them as they tossed a ball, and as they neared Mitch easily made out the forms of his daughter and Jamie. Jackson and Abe were there as well, their hawk-like gazes masked behind their casual postures and quiet conversation. Mitch was glad to see the tranquilizer rifle slung over Jackson’s back, though he didn’t think it was necessary. Still, the extra level of protection was appreciated. It had been about two days since the cure was released; there was no telling how many animals were still uncured.

Jamie and Clem’s game came to a halt as Mitch parked the Hummer in the vehicle bay. Henry barked eagerly, ready to play, but nobody responded. Mitch opened the back door for his mother, helping her down out of the large vehicle and onto the metal floor.

“Mitch, this is amazing,” she breathed.

“Yeah, I’ll give you the full tour later,” he promised. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand with his free one and pulled her out of the bay and onto the tarmac. Clem had moved to stand next to Jamie, her face a mixture of anticipation and nervousness as the woman wrapped an arm over her shoulders and urged her forward.

The others moved back into the plane to give them a moment, and Mitch was grateful. He seemed to realize introductions would fall on him, and he was ready when they finally all stood within arm’s reach.

“Mom, this is Clem. And you know Jamie.”

“Of course.” Dianne seemed to sense her granddaughter’s uneasiness and reached for Jamie first. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” Jamie returned her hug warmly. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“And you as well, dear.” Dianne looked down at Clem with a bright smile. “The last time I saw you, you weren’t even knee high to a grasshopper. You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”

Mitch could tell Clem was still a bit apprehensive and didn’t miss the way she leaned toward Jamie just a bit. He was happy that they were getting on, but he had hoped for a bit of a warmer reception.

“Clem?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She blinked once, shook her head, and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Again,” she added with a laugh. “My mom’s parents died when I was a baby, so I never knew any of my grandparents before.”

“Well, now you do,” Dianne held out her arms in invitation, and Clem moved into the hug with only the slightest moment of hesitation. They stood there for a few long seconds, and Mitch could see the happiness on his mother’s face as she basked in the reunion. Jamie came up on his good side and he smiled down at her briefly.

“Hey,” he said finally, “I know Clem knows her way around the plane now. She could give you the tour.”

“That would be wonderful,” Dianne kept one arm around Clem’s shoulders as they made their way back to the plane. By the time they made it through the sliding door and into the lab, Clem was already chatting a mile a minute about everything she’d learned from Trotter and how he’d let her mess with the controls once they were safely on the ground.

Mitch watched as his mother and his daughter disappeared around a corner, not even noticing when Jamie stopped just beyond his peripheral vision. Finally he felt her eyes on him, and when he turned toward her she was grinning.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “Happy looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He pulled her in and kissed her quickly. “Feels good.” Mitch wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this level of... _contentment_ \- not since Clem was born. “How long before we’re off to Louisiana?”

“Not sure,” Jamie shrugged. “Trotter mentioned we needed to refuel again. He called Allison and set up a delivery for later today, so we have to wait at least until then. By the time we can take off it might be late, and Louisiana’s two hours ahead of California. We should probably just wait until tomorrow morning so we don’t arrive in the middle of the night.”

“Sounds good.”

“How are you holding up?” Jamie asked. “Do you need your bandages changed?”

“No, but I’m about ready to toss this sling,” he lifted his injured arm away from his body. 

“Mitch, you shouldn’t do that.”

“It’s fine,” he told her. “It was just a subluxation. I take it off at night anyway.” He reached around to unsnap it, and his shoulder throbbed as he straightened his arm. Jamie frowned but didn’t say anything as he tested his mobility. It hurt, but he could deal with it if it meant he didn’t have to wear the sling. 

“Stubborn,” Jamie muttered under her breath, though he was close enough to hear it.

“I’m fairly certain this is a pot and kettle situation here,” he fired back. “Besides, being stubborn isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“Okay,” Jamie folded the sling carefully, then tossed it onto the nearest work table. “I’ll remind you of that when Clem is a teenager and you’re complaining to me about it.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the arrival of his daughter and his mother cut off whatever he was about to say. He folded his arms across his chest both to support his injured arm and to keep his mother from seeing that he’d taken off the sling, but it was no use. 

“Mitch,” Dianne scolded gently, “put your sling back on.”

“Mom, I’m fine,” he turned and made a show of letting his arms fall to his side. “It was just a precaution, but it’s okay. It wasn’t a full dislocation.”

Dianne pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You get that from your father, you know.”

Mitch almost put the sling back on. “Mom, I’m okay. Honest. Did Clem show you around?”

“She did. And she introduced me to your friends.”

“Great,” Mitch rubbed his hands together. “We have to refuel, so we won’t be taking off until tomorrow morning.”  
“Hey, Mitch,” Jackson appeared at the top of the stairs, “Allison’s on the phone. Says she needs to talk to you.”

Mitch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he answered. “Tell her I’ll be right there.” He could feel his mother’s cold stare, but he waited for Jackson to leave before he looked up at her.

“Allison?” she asked flatly. “As in Allison Shaw?”

“Mom, listen -”

She held up a hand sharply and he shut his mouth. He waited for the smart remark from Jamie, but it never came. When he snuck a glance, she was rather pointedly staring anywhere but his face. Mitch sighed heavily and pushed off the work table.

“I’ll be right back. Jamie, could you find a room for my mom?”

“Sure.”

He left them alone in the lab and made his way to the conference room. Allison’s image was larger than life on the screen and Mitch didn’t bother hiding his irritation as he greeted her with barely more than a hello..

“Wow, for someone who just saved the world, you’re being awfully grumpy.”

“Save it,” he snapped. “What do you need?”

“You,” she said simply. “The President is calling for a briefing on the cure, and you’re the guest of honor. I need you in Washington by Friday.”

“That two days,” he shook his head. “I can’t brief the President in two days.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Just figure it out and tell me where you need me to be.’ Well I’m telling you I need you in Washington in two days.”

“We’re in California right now, and tomorrow we’re going to Louisiana.”

“I know, Trotter told me. At some point I’m going to have to explain the fuel costs in a report. You can’t just gallivant around the country for no reason.”

Mitch was growing more annoyed by the moment, and he didn’t bother hiding it. “We came to get my mother, and we’re going to Jamie’s family’s farm tomorrow. Then you can have your stupid plane back.”

“Sure,” Allison kept her tone light and neutral, and Mitch could tell by the look on her face she was doing it purposefully to piss him off. “You can bring it back to me Friday, when you come brief the President.”

“Fine!” Mitch raised his hands in defeat, forgetting about his shoulder for a moment. He winced and lowered it back down, along with his voice. “Fine, I’ll come out there, brief the President and then go back to Louisiana. And you can have your plane back.”

“Technically, it’s your plane,” Allison smiled disarmingly. “I just paid for the fuel.”

Mitch felt a muscle in his jaw twitch as he clenched his teeth in an effort to keep from spitting out all of the nasty remarks that were swimming around his brain. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s it. For now. See you Friday.” She reached out and disconnected the call, leaving Mitch seething in the conference room. He stayed in there a few more moments to calm down. He knew he was going to have to talk to his mom, explain the situation, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. Instead he sank into one of the plush chairs bolted to the floor around the table and put his head in his hands.

“Mitch?” It was Jamie. She knocked once and opened the door. “You alright?”

He sat up straight and tried to smile, though it probably came out closer to a grimace. “Yeah, peachy. Allison needs me in D.C. on Friday to brief the President.”

“Wow.” She slipped into the room and sat in the chair next to his. “The President?”

“Yeah. How’s Mom?”

“She really doesn’t like Allison,” Jamie said. “As soon as Clem was gone she gave me an earful about ‘that woman.’ Don’t worry,” she added quickly, “I didn’t tell her about Allison’s involvement in the last few months.”

“Could you? Because I don’t want to.”

Jamie ignored his pathetic plea and sat back. “I put her in Dariela’s old room, now that she’s staying with Abe.”

“Thanks.” They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Mitch took a moment to collect his thoughts. So much had happened in the past couple of days that he hadn’t had time to really process it all. He’d been looking forward to spending some time in Folsom just relaxing and trying to make sense of everything, but of course Allison had come along and derailed his plans. Again. A weary sigh escaped him, and Jamie shifted in her seat.

“So what’s the plan?”

“For you? The same as it was. We’re flying to Louisiana tomorrow to drop all of you off, then I have to fly to Washington.”

“I can come with you, if you want?” Her tone lifted at the end, as though she wasn’t quite sure if he wanted her to tag along. 

He did, but he shook his head anyway. “You should be with your family.”

Jamie leaned forward in her seat, and Mitch was captivated by the intensity of her stare as she laid her hand on his forearm. “You are my family.” Her fingers were cool on his arm, and as he covered her hand with his they shared a smile.

“It’ll only be a day,” he told her, “and your aunt and uncle have been looking forward to seeing you. You should go home.”

“Alright,” she squeezed his arm and stood. “Come on,” she tugged on his arm until he rose to his feet next to her. “Apparently we’re having an early dinner and telling your mom and Clem the story of the Beast Rebellion from day one.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun.” Mitch rolled his eyes but followed dutifully, his mind already sifting through the last fifteen months and figuring out which pieces to leave out. 

The others were already gathered in the kitchen, chatting and laughing as they prepared a meal from their meager stores of food. Even Trotter had joined them, tucked against the far wall with Clem and Jackson as he regaled them with a story from his flight school days. Dariela and Dianne were behind the island plating food as Abe ferried the full plates to the lounge next door. It was the only place that would accommodate everyone now that there were eight of them. Jamie left his side to help Abe, but not before commanding Mitch to go sit down.

He grumbled something about not being an invalid, but ducked his head after his mother shot him a stern look. He ignored the gleeful smirks the others sported as he obeyed, slipping into a chair as Jamie set a plate at his spot. She kissed him quickly, then went for drinks as the others shuffled in to take their seats. Clem scrambled to sit next to him, and his mother smiled as she passed up the empty chair on his left and instead move to sit next to her granddaughter. 

As dinner began and Jackson kicked off their tale, Mitch marveled at how right this felt. He reached under the table for Jamie’s hand, picking it up from her lap to set their joined hands in his. She squeezed his fingers firmly but didn’t take her eyes off of Jackson and Abe as they told everyone about their adventure in Botswana. She had been right - this was their family and there was nowhere Mitch would rather be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and the others get settled in at her childhood home while Mitch is away in D.C. More family fluff ensues. (Warning, there is very little-to-no plot development in this chapter. It is meaningless fluff filler. That is all.)

They had to take both vehicles from the bay to accommodate all of them, and Jamie offered to drive the lead car both to guide the way and to make sure she was the first to get a glimpse of her family farm. It had been so long since she’d been home - well over a year and half - and though it was by no means the longest she’d been away, driving the familiar streets of Folsom felt more like a homecoming than ever before. She’d called her aunt just before they left the St. Tammany Regional Airport, and Fran had promised to have a big southern breakfast laid out by the time they arrived.

Jamie very nearly broke down into tears as they crossed the city limit sign, and again when she caught sight of the broken gate at the end of the road. She signaled to let Abe know in the Hummer behind her that they were turning off the main road, and she slowed just enough to take the turn safely.

It was beautiful. The two story farmhouse rose from behind a hill, the front awash in splashes of orange and yellow as the sun rose over the treetops. Several cars were parked along the side of the house, and though Jamie didn’t recognize any of them she knew that Reese and Charlie were there. It would be a tight fit for all of them, especially with Jamie bringing five people with her, but Fran had said they would make it work.

She hadn’t even stopped fully before the front door burst open and her family came spilling out. Jamie threw the car in park and jumped out, not even bothering to turn the engine off. She met them all halfway in a tangled heap of limbs and tears, the sobs of her aunt muffled by Jamie’s delighted laughter and the shouts of her uncle and cousins. 

It was a long while before they began to separate. Jamie saw her friends standing a respectful distance away, content to let her reunite with her family before intruding on the moment. Jamie loved them all the more for it and waved them over eagerly.

“Aunt Fran, Uncle Bo, this is Jackson, Abe, Dariela, Clem and Dianne,” she introduced them one at a time. “Guys, this is my family.”

Pleasantries and welcomes made the rounds before they all started back toward the house. Fran had an arm wrapped around Jamie’s shoulder, and she guessed it would be a while before her aunt let her out of her sight. 

“It’s a shame Mitch couldn’t stay,” she said.

“He’ll be back soon,” Jamie promised. “Hopefully the briefing won’t last too long and he’ll be able to fly back out tomorrow.” Jamie followed her aunt into her childhood home, and for a moment she was struck by another wave of emotion. She paused just inside the door to soak it in. The others waited patiently, but soon the aroma of a freshly cooked breakfast wafted through the house and Jamie’s stomach urged her forward.

“We don’t have any bacon or sausage,” Fran was saying as they all filed into the kitchen, “but we’ve got biscuits and gravy, pancakes, crepes and eggs.”

Jamie smiled at the familiar scene - her aunt was ready at a moment’s notice to feed an army at three in the morning if that’s when they arrived. Dariela and Jackson made a beeline for the table, dragging Abe and Clem along with them as Fran began bustling about. Dianne offered to help but was shooed away gently to join the others at the feast. Jamie felt a heavy arm settle over her shoulders, and she leaned into her uncle’s hug with a grin.

“Welcome home, bug,” he murmured warmly.

Jamie felt herself tearing up again, and as her friends began digging into the meal her aunt had provided she turned and buried her face against her uncle’s shoulder. He rubbed her back soothingly as she soaked in the feeling of home. She moved from his arms to Reese, who was standing just behind his father. Charlie was next, her junior by a few years but still almost a head taller. Her cousins had always felt much more like brothers to her, and she was glad to see them as well.

Charlie tucked her under one arm and pulled her away from the chaotic kitchen and toward the much quieter living room. “You heard about Stephen?”

“Yeah,” Jamie nodded. “How’s Sam holding up?”

“Alright,” Charlie shrugged. “With everything that was going on…”

Jamie joined him on the couch, tucking one leg under her as she turned to face him. “Is he coming home?”

“Mom called him,” Charlie said. “He said he’d be here as soon as he could.” He fidgeted slightly in his seat, a remnant of the seemingly endless supply of energy he’d possessed as a child. He had always been moving, climbing trees or running around or riding his bike. Even in school, the teachers had often remarked that he was a very smart child but had trouble sitting still or staying focused.

“Is it weird?” he blurted out suddenly. He shook his head a little, as if berating himself for the outburst, but his eyes held their curiosity.

“Being home?” she clarified. “Yes and no. I mean, as a kid I couldn’t wait to get away, to get out on my own and start living my life. But now? All I’ve wanted to do for the past couple of months is this.” She raised her hands to indicate their current situation.

Charlie laughed. “I know what you mean. All the shit that’s happened in two years...it puts things in perspective.”

Jamie chuckled her agreement then changed the subject. “How’s your family?”

Charlie’s face split in a proud grin. “Great! Megan’s pregnant again. I just hope it’s not another set of twins,” he laughed. “I’m not sure if we could handle four against two.”

Jamie forced a smile on her face. They didn’t know. They didn’t know that the very thing they believed had saved them had instead doomed them. Mitch was on his way to D.C. right now to brief their leaders on the situation, but the general public still believed the gas had worked. No one knew about their cure, or Pangaea, or the birds. And, Jamie suspected sourly, they never would. Mitch’s work would be swept under a rug, his brilliance silenced to further the agendas of mega-corporations and governments.

“Jamie?” 

Charlie was looking at her worriedly, and she blinked twice in surprise. Her hands had clenched tightly in her lap, and she relaxed them deliberately as she took deep breaths. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she reassured him. “It’s nothing. Come on,” she stood up and reached down for his hand. “I’m starving, and if we don’t hurry there won’t be anything left to eat in there.”

The rest of the morning was spent catching her family up on everything. Much as they had for Dianne, Jamie and her friends relayed the events of the past two years in a sort of round robin storytelling that had everyone stunned into silence by the end.

It was Bo who spoke first. “That’s a hell of a tale,” he said.

“So no one can have kids anymore?” Charlie asked quickly. “What about anyone already pregnant? Is there a danger?”

“No,” Jamie shook her head firmly. “All the tests we’ve done show that there’s no change for anyone who was pregnant before the gas drop. But those kids, they’ll be the last ones born unless we can figure out how to reverse it all.”

“How do you know?” Charlie pressed.

“I’m pregnant,” Dariela answered. “And I’ve been monitored since almost the beginning. Everything’s normal.”

“How come the news isn’t reporting it?” Fran asked.

“Because they don’t know,” Jamie told her. “That’s why Mitch is in D.C. right now. He’s briefing everyone so they can start figuring out where to start.”

“It sounds like one of those science-fiction novels you used to read all the time,” Reese added with a teasing smile at Jamie. 

“Funny you should mention that,” she finished the last of her orange juice and set the empty glass on the table. “I’ve started compiling notes and accounts to write one.”

“A book?” Fran gasped. “Dear, that’s wonderful!”

“Yeah, but can you do it?” Charlie asked. At his mother’s stern glare, he clarified. “No, I mean because of the non-disclosure thing.”

“I never signed one,” Jamie said smugly. “I was dead at the time.” Her joke didn’t sit well with her family, but her point still stood. “Besides, it’s not going to be a true telling. More of an ‘inspired by events’ kind of thing.”

“You need to be careful,” Fran warned. “Reiden has a lot of money and influence. You know that better than any of us. What if they try to silence you?”

“Let them try,” Jackson said defiantly. “The NDA only applies to the things that happened before the plane crash. And since Jamie never signed one, she’s not restricted like we are. I, for instance, can’t go public with that story, but she can. And everything after that’s fair game.”

Abe nodded in agreement. “They won’t be able to stifle her unless they want everyone in the world to know that’s what they’re trying to do.”

“And I imagine their PR guy is already busy enough as it is,” Dariela added with a smirk.

“The world deserves to know the truth,” Jamie felt bolstered by her friends. She had been unsure about the book at first, but the longer she thought about it the more she wanted to do it. Hearing her friends’ unwavering support only stoked the fire in her chest. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to grab her laptop and dive into the files and notes she had there, so she stood with an offer to help clean up.

“Oh no, honey,” Fran waved her off predictably. “You go rest. I can take care of this.”

Dianne insisted on helping, and Fran finally relented under her persistence. The two women began chatting as they gathered dishes, silverware and glasses from the table. Everyone else cleared out quickly before they could get in the way. Charlie left with a hug and a promise to return with the rest of his family on Sunday. Bo and Reese went out to check the fields and to get some work done, leaving Jamie and the others to entertain themselves.

They grabbed their bags out of the cars and set them in a corner out of the way until they could figure out where everyone was sleeping. Clem found the television remote and began flipping through channels as Jamie pulled her laptop out of her backpack. 

Her phone rang about an hour later. “It’s Mitch,” she announced to the others before she answered. “Hello?”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted and annoyed, which probably meant he had already met with someone.

“How’s D.C.?” she asked flippantly as Clem abandoned the television to sit on the couch next to her.

“I think it’s actually more chaotic now than the last time we were here,” he told her. “How are things there?”

“Great,” Jamie couldn’t help but smile. “Clem wants to talk to you.” She had caught the eager expression on the girl’s face the moment she’d come over. She passed the phone to Clem and went back to her computer for a moment as the girl took over the conversation.

“Hey Dad.” A beat of silence, then, “Good. Jamie’s aunt cooked breakfast for everyone.” 

Even Jamie could hear Mitch’s groan, and she laughed. “Tell him I’m sure Aunt Fran will be happy to cook him something when he comes back,” Jamie said.

Clem relayed the message, then asked, “When are you coming back?”

Jamie wanted to know the answer to that question as well, so she leaned in a bit to hear his reply. “Tomorrow, hopefully,” she heard. 

“Okay.” Clem listened for a moment more. “I will. Love you, too.” She handed the phone back to Jamie and went back to the television, apparently satisfied with their conversation.

Jamie pulled the phone to her ear and sighed. “Tomorrow, huh?”

“Allison wanted me to stay through the weekend. I told her to go to hell.”

Jamie wanted to believe he’d been more diplomatic about it, but he probably hadn’t. “How did she take that?”

“About as well as you’d expect,” Mitch answered. “Break’s almost over, so I have to get back in there. I’m briefing the President’s Science Advisory Committee this afternoon. I swear, I’m just gonna have them video this whole thing so I can stop repeating myself.”

“Might save some time,” she agreed. “I love you. Be safe.” It had become habit to use the same five words at the end of any conversation, and he echoed them before disconnecting. Jamie held the phone for a second longer, then slid it onto the end table. Jackson, Abe and Dariela were holding a rather stilted conversation at their end of the living room, but Jamie could tell they were curious about Mitch’s call.

“He’s briefing the Science Council,” she told them. “He’ll be back as soon as he can.”

Abe nodded thoughtfully. “He will be quite the popular man for a while, I imagine. He is the only scientist who has been involved from the beginning. The whole world is going to want to hear what he has to say.”

Jamie hadn’t thought of that. Suddenly, she pictured Mitch calling her every few days with an apology and another destination. He’d told her a while ago about how he’d been too brash and too quick to publish his work, eager to make his mark. He’d been burned, his work discredited, and now mostly kept his head down in the scientific community. Why _wouldn’t_ he want enjoy his success now? The Architect of the Cure, Allison had called him. Every scientific journal and media outlet across the globe would be scrambling to get to Mitch Morgan.

“Jamie?” Dariela pulled her from her thoughts, and Jamie blinked a few times to clear her head. “Is there somewhere I can lay down? I need a nap.”

“Uh, sure.” Jamie slid her laptop to the cushion next to her and stood up. “You can sleep in my old room.” She led the other woman up the stairs and down a short hall. There were three bedrooms upstairs, but only one on the left side the landing. The other two sat on either side of a bathroom on the right, all three rooms connected by a series of doors. Originally, Reese and Charlie had occupied those rooms, with the twins in the left room. When Jamie had moved in, Stephen and Sam had been thrown in with Charlie and Jamie was given her own space on the opposite side of the second level from the boys.

Her room was exactly the same as she’d left it twelve years ago. It wasn’t a terribly large room, maybe fifteen feet by twenty, and painted in a soft grayish beige that Fran had argued against and lost. The far wall was navy, accented by the matching comforter and pillowcases on the bed against it. A dresser, a desk and a bookshelf were on the other three walls, leaving a small amount of open space to navigate between the furniture. Jamie’s room didn’t have its own bathroom, but the closet space more than made up for it. There weren’t a lot of clothes in it anymore - just a few winter coats that hadn’t been worn in a while - and almost half of it was piled floor to ceiling with boxes. 

Dariela was already rearranging pillows, so Jamie shut the door behind her and turned to go back downstairs. It still felt odd to be back after everything that had happened. The house hadn’t changed in years - decades, maybe - and she could still picture so clearly moments that had happened between these walls. Laughter floated up to her from the lower floor and Jamie recognized her aunt’s voice as she told a story (probably something embarrassing from Jamie’s childhood). 

Jamie paused halfway down the stairs and sank down, content to listen to the warmth and love that seemed to be ever present in the house. Her family - both the one she’d been born into and the one she’d chosen - was under one roof, with one notable exception. Jamie closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, sending up a silent plea for Mitch to be done soon so he could come back - so he could come home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visitor arrives at the farmhouse.

The sun was already above the horizon and still rising as he rode east towards Folsom. Mitch fidgeted in seat as the anxiousness of his rather hectic travel itinerary washed away, leaving only a sort of giddy anticipation sitting high in his chest. He’d never guessed he’d be one of those lovestruck fools he used to scorn and mock, but here he was growing more and more flustered with each mile that disappeared between him and Jamie.

Allison had been rather difficult when he announced he was leaving D.C., and rather than fight with her on fuel costs and more briefings he’d arranged transport on an Army cargo flight delivering supplies to Fort Polk and the surrounding areas. He’d left a note - which he’d thought was rather civil of him considering - and boarded the plane at three in the morning. From there he’d managed to talk his way onto a transport truck headed for New Orleans. He’d hopped off in Baton Rouge and hitched a ride with a man reuniting with his family in Georgia. The man - Graham, he’d said - had insisted on taking Mitch all the way to Folsom when he’d learned that his family was there.

“A man should be with his family,” was the only explanation he’d given and pointed his truck east on I-12 and refused to hear another word about it. 

They crossed the Folsom city limit just after ten. Mitch directed Graham toward the broken gate and assured him that it was okay to drop him there. The Armstrongs were a welcoming bunch, but the things were still unstable and Bo often met strangers on the front porch with his shotgun in hand. Mitch would probably fare better walking the quarter mile down the dirt road to the house by himself.

Graham pulled over and unlocked the doors as Mitch extended his hand for a shake. “Thank you. I appreciate you going out of your way.”

“You just hold real tight onto those girls of yours and we’ll call it even.”

Mitch stepped out onto the road and shouldered his bag as Graham turned around and began the long trek back to the highway. He was struck once more at the kindness of strangers and, for a moment, lamented growing up so isolated and alone. Each time he visited Folsom he felt like he understood Jamie a bit more. Her trusting nature had been learned here, surrounded by people unrelated to her but just as much a part of her life as her own family. People who were concerned about their neighbors, who pitched in to help when it was needed and who came together as a community when things went wrong. 

His feet began carrying him down the dirt road, each step a little lighter than the one before. He felt a smile stretch his face as he caught sight of the house from the top of the hill, and it stayed as he crossed the yellow-green lawn. 

Mitch could hear laughter through the door as he climbed the small stairs to the porch, and he opened the screen door to knock loudly on the wooden frame.

“I got it.” Jamie’s voice was muffled but no less beautiful to Mitch’s ears. His grin widened as she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Hi, miss, can I interest you in one scientist, slightly used?”

“Mitch!” She recovered from her shock quickly and surged forward to wrap both arms around his shoulders.. He dropped his bag to return the hug, ignoring the pain in his ribs as she held on a little too tight. 

“Miss me?” he laughed as she stepped back to pull him inside. 

Jamie didn’t even grace his question with an answer, choosing instead to roll her eyes and ask one of her own. “How’d you get away?”

“Snuck out,” he told her honestly. “I have a few possibly angry voicemails on my phone that I haven’t checked yet.”

“Dad!” Clem appeared seconds later with Henry close on her heels. He hugged her as tightly as he could for several long seconds before everyone else arrived and he was passed around from person to person. Even Reese greeted him with a firm handshake and a smile, welcoming him back with the warmth of a distant relative he hadn’t seen in a while. 

“How did you get here?” Dianne asked when they were finally settled. Fran had left to fetch a glass of water for him and returned with a plate of what looked like breakfast leftovers. Mitch ate appreciatively and told the short tale between bites. They were all dutifully impressed by the ranks of leadership that had been his captive audience, but when he reached his great escape his mother clucked her tongue.

“Mitchell,” she scolded lightly, though he could tell she didn’t really mean it. She disliked Allison almost as much as Mitch did, and when he just shrugged in response he saw the twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

“She’ll be fine,” he told them. “I imagine they’ll be scrambling to restore order first before they start to worry about...everything else.” He glanced furtively at his friends, unsure how much he should say, but Jamie just shook her head.

“We told them the whole story,” she informed him. “They know what’s going on.”

“Did the president say what they were going to do?” Fran asked anxiously.

Mitch looked up a bit apologetically. “No. They were too busy assigning blame and debating who was going to be in charge of implementing cleanup protocols. I’m not sure when they’ll actually get to the issue.”

“I’d have left, too,” Reese said from his position leaning against the staircase banister. “Those pr-people up in Washington,” he amended quickly with a furtive glance at Clem, “don’t know what they’re doing. We’re on our own out here.”

“Things will get better,” Jamie urged. “We’ve just now distributed the cure. Once things settle down, everything will start to go back to normal.”

“Right,” Fran agreed brightly. “Until then, I’m just happy that everyone is safe and home.” There was a sadness as she spoke, and Mitch remembered that one of her sons would never come home again. Stephen had been killed in Houston last year, and though Mitch had never met him he felt a sort of kindred sympathy for Fran. Losing a child was one of the worst fears a parent ever faced, and he felt the urge to reach out and hold Clem just a little tighter. 

“Alright,” Bo announced, “let’s all let Mitch get settled in. Reese, we need to go clear out all of that dead brush from the back lot.”

“I’ll help,” Jackson stood, elbowing Abe on his way up.

Abe looked confused for only a second before he rose to his feet beside Jackson. “Me, too.”

Mitch hid a smile as he realized what his friends were doing. Even Dariela got the hint, faking a yawn and escaping upstairs. Fran didn’t bother masking her grin as she and Dianne stepped out onto the front porch to finish their coffee, Clem and Henry close behind. Mitch heard Henry’s excited bark and Clem giggling as they started to play in the yard and took a moment to enjoy the sound. 

“Come on,” Jamie wrapped her hand under his arm and tugged him to stand with her. “I’ll show you where to drop your bag.”

Space was limited, Mitch discovered, but they’d made it work. Jackson and Reese had been given air mattresses and mounds of blankets to camp out in the living room. Dianne had lost the battle and ended up in Reese’s room with Abe and Dariela in the guest down the hall. Jamie had gotten the luckiest of all, and Mitch set his bag down just inside her bedroom as she dragged him in.

“Clem’s been in a sleeping bag on the floor there,” she gestured to the space just in front of the closet, “but Charlie’s bringing over one of the extra twin mattresses from his boys’ roo- _mmph_!”

Mitch cut her off with a kiss, snaking one arm around her waist and threading the other through her hair. She was tense for only a split second of surprise before she responded eagerly, her lips plying against his as her hands wandered over his shoulders to curl in the hair at the base of his neck. It was longer than he usually wore it, but Jamie didn’t seem to mind. She hummed as he leaned a bit further, backing her up to the wall. The impact broke them apart for a moment and Mitch chuckled low in his throat.

“What?” Jamie smiled back, her eyes bright and impish.

“Nothing,” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her again. This one was softer, a promise whispered across her lips, and he lingered for a long moment. He put an inch of space between them to murmur three words. “I love you.”

This time she was the one to initiate the kiss, raising to her toes to press her body flush against him. It was answer enough. 

Mitch was content to spend the rest of the afternoon like this, but Jamie apparently had other ideas. He caught a glimpse of worry on her face as she ducked under his arm and took a few steps away. He turned but didn’t follow, content to let her suss through her thoughts before she inevitably blurted out whatever was bothering her.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked finally.

Two years ago, he’d have asked for specifics before agreeing to anything. “Sure,” he replied without hesitation. 

“I want to go see my mom,” she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then back again. “Would you come with me?”

“I…” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Truthfully, he’d be happy to go the rest of his life without setting foot in that cemetery again. The first time had been awkward, a knee-jerk reaction to offer her comfort in her moment of despair. The second had been one of the worst days of his life, and it was this feeling that he desperately wanted to avoid reliving. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head and offered her a flat smile. 

“You don’t want to go?”

She looked stricken and he back-pedaled quickly. “No, no, we can go.” It was the last thing he wanted to do, but sending her off alone wasn’t an idea he could bear.

They dug the keys to the Hummer out of Abe’s coat by the door and announced they were leaving. When asked, Jamie answered Fran vaguely about their destination, mentioning a quick drive around town and maybe a stop at Vic’s. The older woman got a look in her eye that Mitch understood. It was almost haunted, though she hid it well, and Mitch knew she was hesitant about letting her niece out of her sight. He promised her that he’d stay with Jamie no matter what, and she seemed to relax a little.

The cemetery was only a couple of miles down the road, but they passed it in silence. Mitch’s heart was pounding so loudly in his chest he was sure Jamie could hear it. By the time they finally parked he was in the beginning stages of a panic attack. He swallowed the anxiety down and wiped his palms on his jeans as Jamie hopped down from the driver’s seat. She expected him to follow her like he had that first time, and she didn’t even look back as she made her way toward the rows of headstones. 

He caught up to her several yards from where her mother was buried, from where her own name was carved into an identical stone. He was so wrapped up in his own distress that he had forgotten to warn her. He saw the moment she caught sight of her headstone, and her entire body tensed as she jerked to a stop. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his tone low and deferential due to their surroundings. “I should have told you.”

“This is why you didn’t want to come?” She turned her head to look at him, but he missed it. His gaze was fixed on a point in the distance, his eyes steadfastly refusing to look down. The image of her name carved in the cold stone was one he’d never forget. “Mitch?” Her fingers slipped into his, cool despite the climbing temperature, and squeezed.

“We buried you,” he finally murmured. His vision blurred as he fought back tears, and her grip on his hand tightened. “There wasn’t a body, so all we had was a short service here. I had to listen to your family talk about how so full of life you had been as though that wasn’t immediately obvious to anyone who’d ever met you. People kept saying how tragic it was that you’d died so young, and all I could think about as they spoke was how they didn’t know the half of it. They tried to tell me you were in a better place, but the best place you could be is right here by my side.” He raised his free hand to wipe away a tear that escaped, and as he glanced down he saw it.

_JAMIE CAMPBELL  
1987 - 2015_

His hand slipped from hers as he turned away sharply, flinching as though he’d been struck. He felt like a fool for acting like this, but he couldn’t help it. He knew Jamie must be having a hard time processing it as well, but his own grief rendered him incapable of offering her any sort of support or comfort.

The sound of crunching leaves and grass rustling caught his attention, and when he turned back Jamie was on her knees in front of her own grave marker. Her fingers were making trenches in the soft earth around it, and he realized at once what she was doing.

“Jamie!”

“What?” she craned her neck to look at him but didn’t stop digging. “It’s my headstone.” He watched in horrified fascination as she dug up the rectangular stone, only moving to help when he saw her struggle to lift it. 

“What the hell are we doing?” He slipped his fingers under a corner and pried as she pulled on the other side. It slid from the ground with a satisfying squish, and suddenly his arms were full of dirty headstone.

“Don’t worry,” Jamie dusted her hands off and stood. “I’m pretty sure you can’t get bad luck from stealing your own gravestone.”

“This is Louisiana,” Mitch reminded her unnecessarily. “I’m pretty sure anything involving graves and stealing is a bad idea.”

“Scared of zombies?” she teased as she led the way back to the Hummer.

“Well, they do eat brains and you seem to have lost yours. I’m more appetizing than you right now.”

“Ha, ha.” She opened the back up and gestured for him to drop the stone inside. “See, nothing to be afraid of.”

“What are you going to do with this thing?”

She just gave him a devilish smile as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “You’ll see.”

They drove back to the farm, but instead of stopping at the house Jamie kept on driving down the dirt path until they reached a barn. It was surrounded by overgrowth and a few piles of discarded junk, so Mitch knew there were no animals inside. It must have been the old barn, he reasoned, remembering a story she’d told him about building the new one sometime during high school.

“Jamie, what are we doing here?” 

“Grab the stone and put it over there,” she ordered, pointing to a small patch of dirt in front of the barn doors. “I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared into the wooden structure as Mitch struggled to keep from looking at the grave marker while moving it. He set it face down out of spite, backing up a few paces for good measure. He wasn’t too worried about zombies and bad juju, but seeing her name atop the bracketed dates made his stomach turn. 

“Here.” Jamie sounded almost gleeful, and when Mitch turned to face her she was sporting a rather mischievous grin. Her hand was clenched around the wooden handle of an old sledge hammer, her arm outstretched in offering.

“What?”

“Here,” she nudged the hammer forward a bit and he took it from her despite his confusion. She crouched to turn the stone over, seemingly unperturbed at seeing her own name on it. “Go on,” she stepped back and gestured grandly. “Take a swing at it.”

He finally realized her plan and smiled, his unease morphing rather quickly into anticipation. “Really?”

“Mitch, it’s been almost a year since the crash, but you still carry the guilt around with you like a shroud. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell you it wasn’t your fault, a part of you still believes you could have done more. I died…” Mitch recoiled visibly at her words but she doubled down. “I died, and you grieved with the heart of a man who believed himself responsible. These last few months have been so hectic that none of us has had a chance to process much, least of all you. So think of this as a sort of therapy.”

Mitch stared down at the white stone for a long moment. Her words reverberated through his head, and as he took several deep breaths he realized she was right. He’d been happier these last few months than he’d ever been in his life, but there was still a shadow lurking in the back of his mind that grew whenever he heard her whimper in her sleep or shy away from an unexpected touch. It made him angry that she’d had to endure that, and his hand tightened ever so slightly on the handle. 

He planted his left foot forward and adjusted his grip. He remembered the way she’d looked when they’d found her in Caraquet, face drawn and eyes haunted. His muscles were halfway through the motion before he even realized he’d started to swing, and the head of the hammer made a satisfying _crack!_ against the stone. There was a sizeable dent in the center of the stone, and he took a couple more hard swings. Finally he cleaved it in two, the jagged edge of the break zigzagging between the first and second letter of her last name. It felt good to see it.

“Feel better?” she asked, her tone light and teasing. It had taken her awhile to find that again, he recalled. For several weeks after reuniting with the team she’d been cold and distant, unsure of her footing in the new dynamic. 

He took another swing.

Her last name and year of death shattered into several smaller pieces as white dust exploded outward. He turned his attention to the second piece and remembered being surprised at her birthday. He’d known she was younger than him, but there was almost eight year’s difference between them. She certainly had exhibited her youthful spirit on their first few meetings, her fire and enthusiasm inescapable, but she’d held a wisdom in her eyes that made her seem older than what he realized now was merely twenty seven. 

“Mitch?”

He blinked and turned his head. “Huh?”

“You drifted off there,” she came to stand beside him, just a pace behind. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out and looked down at his handiwork. “That was...cathartic.”

“Can I try?” She held her out hands eagerly and he relinquished the hammer. He took a few steps back as she adjusted her stance and her grip for a good swing. She hit the large piece with a force that surprised him, and it burst into tiny pieces. “That felt good.” She dropped the hammer to the ground and closed the distance between them, slipping herself under his arms. 

He winced slightly as his adrenaline wore off, reminding him that he’d been attacked by wild hybrids a little over a week ago. Jamie seemed to remember at the same time and she gasped as she jerked away from him. 

“I didn’t even think about your injuries. Are you okay? Nothing hurts too much, right? Do you need to go see a doctor?”

“I’m okay,” he reached out and tugged her against him again, ignoring the aches and pains in favor of holding her. “Nothing a hot shower and some pain killers won’t fix. You were right, though. I needed this.”

“Come on,” she nudged him toward the hummer. “All of this smashing made me hungry.”

“You took one swing,” he pointed out as they climbed into the vehicle.

“Yeah, well, you needed it more than I did.”

He could only hum in agreement as he reached across the console for her hand. He laced their fingers together and rested them on her thigh, glad to see the soft smile she wore as she drove them back to the farmhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I have to admit that I'm having way too much fun with this filler fluff. I anticipate a few more chapters before we get back to the action. My pragmatic side is demanding that I insert some conflict, but my inner romantic is enjoying the light-hearted, trouble-free fluff. Guess which one is winning?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
> 
> Interstice: An intervening space; A small or narrow interval between parts.

“Oh, Jamie!” Her aunt was frantic and as they entered the house. Jamie let go of Mitch’s hand to grasp Fran’s instead, a thousand worrying thoughts zipping through her head. 

“What is it?”

“George just called from the cemetery,” she looked equal parts horrified and worried. “He said...he said someone stole your headstone!” She looked about ready to faint and her grip tightened as she spoke. Jamie heard Mitch cough roughly behind her and shot him a warning look. But she’d never been very good at getting anything by her aunt, and the older woman’s mood shifted from anxious to suspicious immediately.

“What’s going on?”

Jamie tightened her grip on the woman’s hand, as though she could physically will her to stay calm. “It’s okay, Aunt Fran. Mitch and I took it.”

The horrified shock was back, this time compounded with outrage. “Jamie Leigh Campbell!”

There was a quiet _ooooh_ from the other room that Jamie recognized immediately. “Shut up, Charlie! Listen,” she turned back to her aunt, “I’m sorry I lied to you, but I went to visit Mom and saw it there. I didn’t really think…”

“I cannot believe you’d do something like that!” Fran was now on a tear and Jamie stood stoically, knowing from experience that nothing she could say or do would deter her aunt. “That is sacred ground, Jamie. Your mother is buried there. Stealing a gravestone - even if it _is_ yours - is just…” She took a breath and Jamie knew she was winding down. When she spoke again, her voice was back to a normal register. “What did you do with it?”

“We took it to the old barn and smashed it with a sledge hammer.”

Fran stood there for several long seconds just staring at her niece. Jamie stared back, reticent but unapologetic. Finally, her aunt just sighed. “Mitch,” she looked past Jamie’s shoulder, and for a moment Jamie was afraid she would yell at him, too. “Jackson was looking for you earlier.”

“I’ll find him,” he promised. Fran nodded once and disappeared into her room, leaving Jamie and Mitch alone in the living room. 

Jamie turned to him and sighed in relief. “That went well, I think.”

“Better you than me,” he teased. “I better find Jackson.”

“You do that. I’m gonna go hit Charlie.” Jamie caught sight of his grin as she turned for the kitchen. Charlie was sitting at the table with Abe and Clem teaching them a card game that the twins had taught him when they were younger. She waited until he finished the (thankfully) kid-friendly rules, then reached out and pinched his shoulder hard.

“Ow!” He rubbed the offended spot with his other hand and glared.

“You deserved that,” she told him. “Deal me in.”

Mitch came in about half an hour later looking grim. Jamie discarded her hand and rose to stand with him near the back of the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“Allison called Jackson because she couldn’t reach me,” he told her. “She’s sending us a list of events we have to attend in the next few weeks. Apparently someone leaked the real source of the cure and everything’s gone haywire.”

“Who?” Jamie knew none of them had been in contact with the press, and the only other person who knew the whole story was… “Logan.” Mitch’s frown soured further and he crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. “It had to be him,” Jamie reasoned. “But why?”

“I don’t know. Probably to make our lives harder. He seems to be pretty good at that.”

Jamie ignored the jab and focused on the problem at hand. “So what is it we have to do?”

He dropped his arms with a sigh and ran a hand down his face wearily. “She said she wasn’t sure on all the details, but we can expect at least a few press releases and meetings with big wigs. And this time they want all of us.” Jamie could see the tension bunched in his shoulders and was reminded that he hadn’t gotten his shower yet. He looked like he was masking his pain, and she rummaged around in the drawer next to her for some painkillers. She shoved the bottle of Advil at him and nudged him toward the stairs.

“Take those and go grab a hot shower. I’ll round up the others.”

They ended up spread out in Jamie’s room with Dariela sitting on the bed and the others perched randomly against pieces of furniture. She’d managed to relay the story to them quickly, and by the time Mitch joined them he looked more relaxed. He eased himself down into the desk chair Jamie had appropriated from Reese’s room and sighed.

“I suppose Jamie’s told you all the good news?”

“Why would Logan go to the press?” Abe wondered aloud.

Mitch just shrugged a shoulder. “Who knows why he does anything? The point is, things just got a bit more hectic for us. Allison wants us all in D.C. by Friday. She said she’d work on travel accommodations and let us know.”

“So much for a break,” Dariela griped. 

“Yeah, well, blame Logan,” Mitch returned. “I was looking forward to doing nothing for a while, but it looks like we’re back to globe-hopping.”

“Globe-hopping?” Jackson questioned.

“Oh, right. Did I forget to mention the best part? She’s got us attached to the State Department as ‘experts,’ so we have to brief foreign heads of state as well.” Mitch’s disdain was palpable and Jamie joined in when the others groaned at the news. Her family wasn’t going to like it any more than they did, and she knew she’d get resistance from her aunt most of all. But it sounded like there was little they could do about it.

“Alright,” Jackson pushed off of the dresser he was leaning on, “let’s just not worry about it right now, okay? We’ve got, what, five more days? I intend to get as much relaxing done as I can.” He left first, presumably to start relaxing, followed quickly by Abe and Dariela. Jamie glanced down at Mitch and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“For what?”

“I know you wanted to spend more time with your family. I can talk to Allison and see if we can do it without you.”

“And let you four loose on those poor people without me there as a buffer? I’m not that cruel.” 

He huffed quietly in amusement, then seemed to register her words. “Hey.”

“Really?” she crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow. “I love Jackson to death, but there is no way he has the patience required for multiple press junkets. Abe will probably be okay, but he’ll be so busy keeping Dariela from going off on someone in a pregnant hormone-fueled rampage that he’ll be useless. And we all know how charming you can be with foreign dignitaries and members of the press. Are you really ready to answer the same inane questions over and over without snapping?”

“I was a teacher, remember?” he shot back. “And I did manage to charm at least one member of the press,” he added with a sly grin. His arm snaked around her waist and tugged, pulling her to sit across his lap. She didn’t lean against him completely, mindful of his still-healing injuries.

“I’m not sure you can use the same tactics in this situation,” she laughed. “Unless you want to start some very weird rumors.”

“I don’t know,” he nuzzled her shoulder with his nose and placed a soft kiss on the crown. “Might keep them from inviting me to any more parties.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Jamie raised an arm to drape it over his shoulders carefully. “You teach us all of the science-y stuff about the cure, and I’ll teach all of you how to talk to the press in a way that won’t make Allison want to strangle us.”

“The ‘science-y’ stuff?’” he laughed. 

“I mean, I don’t need to know all of the super complicated details,” she shrugged. “But it’d be nice to answer any questions without having to always defer to you.”

“Alright, Miss Campbell. You have a deal.” He sealed it with a kiss.

She had just leaned in a bit more, shifting to keep most of her weight off of his bad shoulder, when he laughed against her lips. Puzzled, she eased back. “What’s so funny?”

“Jamie Leigh Campbell?” 

She could see the mirth dancing in his eyes and she didn’t bother hiding her eye roll. “My parents were super into slasher movies,” she explained. “They went to see Halloween on their first date. When I was born nine years later, Mom thought it was a good homage. Mine ends in ‘g-h’ though, not ‘e-e.’”

“Alright then, Jamie Leigh, let’s get started.” He was enjoying this way too much, and Jamie resolved to ask Dianne for Mitch’s middle name at the very next opportunity. Two could play at this game.

The five of them ended up under the shade tree in the backyard on two large blankets. Fran had even made some lemonade for them, and they each sipped their drinks as Mitch went over the broader aspects of the mutation and how the cure had stopped it. Jamie felt like she was in eleventh grade biology all over again, and more than once she had to stop Mitch mid-ramble to get clarification on something. She was scribbling shorthand notes in a spiral notebook that she was sure she’d spend more than one sleepless night studying. Abe seemed to catch on the fastest, and near the end he showed real interest in helping Mitch with humanity’s newest problem.

“There’s a lot about it I don’t even understand,” Mitch told him curtly. “We’ve got some of your dad’s notes, Jackson, but I can’t even begin to make sense of them. I have a feeling it’s going to take a lot longer than two years to figure this one out. And once again, it looks like I’m the one who has to do the figuring.”

“I will help,” Abe promised. “However I can.”

“Well, unless you’re an expert in reproductive endocrinology, I’m not sure how much help you’re going to be.” Jamie knew he hadn’t meant it as harsh as it sounded, but Abe fell silent anyway. 

“Mitch.”

His face was pinched when he glanced over, and he accepted her soft chastisement with about as much grace as she expected from him. He mumbled an apology in Abe’s direction, though it didn’t sound sincere. He winced visibly as he struggled to his feet and waved off her attempt to help him.

“I’m gonna go find out what Clem’s been up to,” he announced. The others watched as he made his way back to the farmhouse, though only Jamie was still looking when he disappeared inside.

“How’s he doing?” Jackson asked.

Jamie turned back to her friends and sighed. “He’s alright,” she told them. “I think he’s getting tired.”

“We’re all still recovering from the past few years,” Abe said.

“No,” Jamie shook her head. “I mean he’s tired of being the one who has all the answers. Allison’s little ‘request’ has made him surly.”

“Mitch has always been surly,” Abe joked. Jamie didn’t laugh. “What I mean is,” he backpedaled quickly, “Mitch has never been the most charismatic member of the team. But he is the smartest, and the only one of us who could have made the cure. I suppose it was just easier to let him take the lead, since he was the one who knew which direction to go to get what we needed.”

“I know,” Jamie let her own apology seep into her tone, “but he’s been through so much. Plus, on top of everything else, he has to learn how to be a single dad to a twelve year old girl.”

“You’re right,” Jackson agreed. “We’ll do what we can to take some of the strain off of him.”

“I think this will help,” Jamie said, gesturing to the space around them. “If we can answer some of the more mundane questions without having to defer to Mitch all of the time, he might not feel so much pressure.”

“Anything we can do,” Jackson promised.

They spent almost another hour outside reminiscing about the “glory days” and basking in the sunny afternoon. Dariela fell asleep in Abe’s lap sometime around two. Jackson offered to help him get her to the house, but Abe just shook his head and lounged back on his outstretched hands. 

“After so many months stuck inside that plane, it’s nice to be outside once again.”

Jackson seemed to agree, though Jamie could tell he was getting antsy sitting here doing nothing. “I know Reese was going to go out on a four wheeler and scout around the land to see what needs repairs,” she told him. “I can see if he wants some company.”

“Sounds good.” Jackson stood and held a hand down for her, hauling her to her feet beside him when she grabbed it. “Abe, you sure you’re alright?”

“Go, _rafiki_ ,” he raised his chin dismissal. “I will be fine.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Jamie told him. “I’ll get Jackson to Reese, then grab my laptop and some refills. I need to do some manuscript work anyway.”

True to her word, Jamie returned about fifteen minutes later with a fresh pitcher of lemonade in one hand and her laptop bag slung over the opposite shoulder. She handed the pitcher to Abe as she settled against the trunk of the tree to get started on her work. She still had so much to flesh out before she could even begin to type out a first draft. She was hoping Abe would be willing to act as a soundboard if she needed it.

Jamie expected Mitch to join them at some point, but it was Charlie who came to get them for dinner. When she asked, Charlie just shrugged his shoulders.

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” he admitted. “I heard him talking to Mom and Dad earlier this afternoon. They might know where he is.”

They didn’t. Dianne and Clem hadn’t seen him either since he’d come to check on them around one. Swallowing down the irrational fear that erupted suddenly, she pulled out her cell and called him. It rang five times before his voicemail message picked up. She hung up and tried again with the same results. She was about try once more when he strolled through the door casually. 

“Where were you?” Jamie asked, trying her hardest not to sound as frantic as she felt. “I tried calling your cell.”

“Went for a walk,” he reminded her as he dug his phone from his pocket. “It’s on silent, sorry.” He pressed a few buttons to fix it and stuffed it back into his jeans before turning toward his friends. His eyes fell on Abraham first and he sighed. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he apologized again, this time more sincerely.

“ _Karibu_ ,” Abe answered solemnly. “I am sorry for not realizing what stresses you were under. I meant what I said. I will help however I can.”

Mitch just nodded, and that was that. Jamie fought the urge to roll her eyes at the boys and gently shoved Mitch in the direction of the downstairs washroom.

“Dinner’s ready,” she told him by way of explanation, leaving him to wash his hands as she went to help her aunt with setting the table for eleven. They had to pull Uncle Bo’s card table from the shed to make room for everyone. Fran fretted over how dirty it was until Charlie pulled an old tablecloth from the depths of the hall closet and draped it over the surface. A mismatched set of four chairs from all over the house were scrounged up and placed around it.

“So who’s sitting at the kid’s table?” Charlie joked.

“You’re the youngest,” Jamie pointed out with a teasing grin.

“No way!”

“Charlie,” Fran chided. “She’s right. If it makes you feel better, Reese will be joining you.” 

Jamie made sure her back was turned when she stuck out her tongue at her cousin. He returned it with a sneer that had no heat behind it and resigned himself to the smaller table. Clem and Dianne offered to fill the remaining two seats, and Jamie was pleased to see both of them enjoying each other’s presence. Being around her grandmother had done Clem a world of good, though Jamie knew she still had a lot of healing ahead of her.

Dinner was a chaotic affair. Fran had opted for spaghetti, leaving large bowls of noodles and sauce in the center of both tables to let everyone fend for themselves. The conversations ranged from the banal to the bizarre, and Jamie just sat back and soaked it in. The last time she had been home things had been forced, almost stilted, and she felt guilty and ashamed for intruding on a place that had once been her home. She knew it had everything to do with the failures that had been so fresh in her mind, and though she hadn’t mentioned it to them she knew her aunt and uncle had figured out something was wrong.

It was different now. Now, it felt like she had never left. Joyfulness irradiated the room, filling every crevice and every nook. Her aunt was laughing at something Dariela had said, Charlie was entertaining Clem and Dianne with a rather exaggerated retelling of some of their childhood adventures, and Abe, Jackson and Uncle Bo were discussing the differences between the African bush and the Louisiana backwoods (turns out, there wasn’t a lot of difference after all). 

“Excuse me.” Mitch stood up, his chair scraping on the linoleum, and everyone fell silent. “I’m not usually one for big speeches, so I’ll keep this brief. Fifteen months ago I was sitting in my office at the Los Angeles Zoo, getting ready to go out and start my day, when my phone rings. It’s a reporter from the L.A. Telegraph asking to meet me and inquire about the two lions that had escaped the night before.” He caught Jamie’s eye briefly as he swept the room and she smiled. He returned it with a quick one of his own before continuing.

“Little did I know that phone call would change my life. Now I’m a part of this super team who was tasked to save the world not once, but twice. And we did. It hasn’t been smooth sailing, and there are more than a few days - months, really - I’d like to forget.” Jamie knew he was talking about the crash and the subsequent months she was presumed dead. For a brief second she saw a flash of that haunted look in his eyes that she wanted so desperately to remove for him, but then it was gone. 

“But in the end, I still cannot believe how incredibly lucky I am to have met all of you.” He turned and held his drink out toward Abe, Dariela and Jackson. “I never had a lot of friends growing up, and it never really bothered me until now. Because now I know what I missed out on. You guys have been like family to me, closer than my real one - present company excluded. And I can’t do anything about you three,” he turned suddenly toward Jamie, “But I can do something about you. Jamie Leigh Campbell…” 

In two steps he was standing at her chair, and with a carefully hidden wince of pain he kneeled down. Jamie felt her heart thump against her ribcage as the moment suddenly hit her. From a pocket he produced a ring that she recognized but couldn’t place, holding it up between his thumb and forefinger. He looked giddy and nervous and terrified all at once as he held her gaze with the most earnest expression she’d ever seen on his face.

“Will you marry me?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A question is answered and a plan is formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
> 
> Interstice: An intervening space; A small or narrow interval between parts.
> 
> This chapter starts about halfway through the last one, picking up from Mitch's exit and continuing through.

“I’m gonna go find out what Clem’s been up to.”

Mitch left his friends sitting at their makeshift picnic and stalked back up to the house. He could feel their eyes on him but he didn’t look back. He knew his irritation was irrational, but the more he thought about it all, the more he wanted to just disappear - let someone else handle it this time. 

“Hi Dad!” Clem greeted him with a bright smile as he stepped into the house. She was sitting next to her grandmother flipping through her phone, obviously showing off pictures.

“Mitch,” Dianne greeted. “What’s wrong?” He’d never been able to slip anything by her, no matter how hard he tried. He smiled a bit at the familiar concern in her tone and shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he told her. “What are you two ladies up to?”

“I’m showing her pictures of Mom and Justin,” Clem said. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, but she seemed genuinely content to share her memories with Dianne. _At least she got her emotional stability from her mother_ , Mitch mused silently, remembering his own recent bout with loss and grief. It didn’t seem like a year had passed since the crash. His keen mind recalled the memories so easily, as though it had only happened weeks ago. 

“Well, I just wanted to check in with you two. Allison called and it looks like the others and I will have to travel for a bit.”

“So soon?” Dianne shook her head and stood. “Mitch, you need to rest. You’ve been going non-stop for almost a year and a half now. You’ve done enough.”

“I agree,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “but it’s not up to me. We’re the only ones who know everything, which makes us the State Department’s number one resource on all things Animal Rebellion. We don’t really have a choice.”

“You could tell them no,” Dianne answered sternly. “You could ask them to give you a few weeks, at least. They owe you that.”

“Mom, I’ve been through all of this with Allison already. Apparently it goes above _her_ pay grade, which means it probably came from the President himself. You want me to tell the President to wait a few weeks?”

Dianne pursed her lips but said nothing. Mitch understood her frustration and agreed, but much like a lot of other things in the last fifteen months it was out of his control. “Look, we’ll do a whirlwind tour and be back as soon as we can.”

“When do you have to leave?” Clem asked, rising to stand next to her grandmother.

“Friday,” Mitch told her. “I’m sorry, Clem. I really am. If there was another way…”

“No, it’s okay,” the girl said flatly. “I understand.” 

“Hey,” he unfolded his arms and gestured for her to come closer. When she did he slid an arm over her shoulder and tucked her against his side. “Come on, let’s have a chat.” He threw a glance over his shoulder to his mother, but she just nodded supportively. Mitch led Clem up the stairs to the room she shared with him and Jamie. He dragged the chair across the carpet to sit as Clem settled on the bed.

“I know this is hard for you,” he started. “Your entire life has been uprooted in the span of just a few days. And you’ve been so strong through all of it, Clem. Stronger than I ever could be. I am so proud of you, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to just accept things and say things just because it’s what you think we want to hear.” He knew he was poking at a hornet’s nest, but he didn’t want his daughter to make the same mistakes he had. “I want you to tell me what you’re really thinking, no matter how much you think it might hurt me.”

“It’s just…” Clem swallowed thickly and looked down to pick at an invisible thread on the comforter. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts, so Mitch said nothing. Finally she looked up and he tried not to react to the sight of tears in her eyes. “It’s not fair!”

“What isn’t?” He had a feeling what she would say, but she seemed to need a bit of prompting.

“None of it,” she tossed her hands up briefly and let them land heavy in her lap. “Mom and Justin dying, you being gone all the time, the animals...everything sucks.”

He resisted the urge to scold her for her language and focused on her words. “I know it does. I’m sorry about your Mom and Justin, I am. I’d give anything to bring them back, Clem.”

“You would?”

Her skepticism surprised him and he let it show. “Of course I would,” he reassured her. “Why would you think I wouldn’t.”

“Because then I wouldn’t be here with you.”

“Clem, you are my daughter. You are the most important thing in the world to me, and I love you. I’m not sure I ever actually told you this, but one of the reasons I was...never really around when you were a kid was because I believed you were happier that way. I’m not…” he took a breath and reminded himself that if he expected her to be honest with him then he needed to return the favor. “I’m not the best father, I know that. Back then, I wasn’t the kind of person that would have been good in a family. When your mom met Justin and told me they were getting married, all I wanted to know was how he was with you. She told me that he loved you like you were his own, and that’s all I needed to know. You were safe and loved, and I honestly thought you didn’t need me.”

“But _you’re_ my dad,” she argued. “I’ll always need you.”

Mitch finally lost the battle against the tears building behind his eyes, and he smiled through them as Clem scrambled off the bed and into his lap. He hugged her tightly and kissed her head, glad that they seemed to have passed the hardest hurdle. Clem was crying, too, and he rubbed her back as her sobs grew louder. _Finally_ , he thought. She was finally grieving for her mother and for the man who had been her father in all but name. 

He let her cry for as long as she needed, only offering her quiet reassurances and gentle caresses as she worked through her grief. When she finally stopped she sniffed wetly and sat back to wipe her face with her sleeves. 

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Hey, no,” he patted her shoulder and helped her move back to the bed. She sat cross legged in the center this time, her shoulders slumped and her hands in her lap. “I’m your dad, that’s what I’m here for. I don’t want you to ever think you have to go through anything alone, okay?” She nodded, but he wanted to press home one more point. “There are a lot of people here who love you, too, Clem. Your grandmother, Jamie, Jackson, Abe...any of them would be willing to listen, okay? That’s what family is for.”

“But they’re not really family.”

“Yes, they are,” he impressed gently. “Family’s not just about who’s related to who. It’s the people who love you, who accept you no matter what and are always there for you. And I know us Morgans aren’t exactly the greatest in the world, but luckily I met people who are as close to me as family and that’s more than made up for it.”

“There’s more than one way to be related, you know.” Her tone had shifted from sad to mischievous and Mitch grew wary. “I mean...you can be related by marriage right?”

Subtle she was not, but neither was she wrong. And it was not difficult to figure out who she was talking about. He couldn’t help but suppress a chuckle as he played along. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So…”

“So what?” He was going to make her commit to her game, and she didn’t disappoint.

“So when are you and Jamie getting married?”

“It’s not that simple, Clem. We haven’t even planned anything…”

“I looked it up,” she scooted to the edge of the bed, her earlier melancholy replaced with excitement. “In Louisiana you have to wait three days after getting your license to get married, so you can apply tomorrow and then get married on Thursday. You leave on Friday so it’s perfect!”

Mitch could only smile at her enthusiasm. “So I guess this means you approve?”

Clem just shrugged a shoulder. “Of Jamie? Of course I do. She’s pretty cool.”

“She is,” Mitch agreed. 

“And she makes you happy.”

“She does.”

“Then, yes, I approve. You have to ask her now, though, because you’re on a time crunch.” She jumped off the bed and grabbed his hand, tugging him up out of his chair. 

“Whoa, whoa,” he laughed and resisted as she tried to drag him out the door. “I have a better plan.”

He left Clem only after securing a pinky promise to keep the plan a secret. _At least for a few more hours_ , he’d told her. She’d zipped her lips and tossed the key for good measure, and he kissed her head gratefully. His next task would be much harder.

He found Bo Armstrong nursing a glass of tea on the front porch. Mitch stepped out the front door and sank down silently onto the porch swing. He lost his balance for a second and lurched, reaching out to grasp the chain with one hand. Bo chuckled and took another sip.

“You settling in alright?”

“Uh, yes. Yes, sir.” Mitch cleared his throat and adjusted his position on the swing so that he was sitting on the edge. His feet were planted firmly on the porch as he leaned his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Hmm?”

Mitch opened his mouth but no sound came out. He tried again and coughed loudly, startling Bo. “Sorry,” he mumbled, patting his chest. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Mitch cleared his throat and tried one more time. “I wanted to talk to you. About Jamie.”

Bo straightened in his chair. “She’s alright, isn’t she?”

“She’s fine. She’s out back with the others. It’s just…” Mitch hadn’t anticipated how difficult this was going to be and he shook his head to clear the fog. “She thinks the world of you. You’re the closest thing to a father she has, and while I’m not entirely sure she won’t kill me for doing this, it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t. I want to ask her to marry me. Tonight,” he clarified. “And I guess...I just wanted to...see how you feel about it?” His sentence grew weaker and weaker as Bo stared him down, his piercing eyes unwavering and stern. 

The silence grew longer and more uncomfortable for Mitch, who fought the urge to squirm in his seat like a schoolboy. Finally Bo just stood up. He stared for a few more seconds, then disappeared back into the house.

“That went well,” Mitch groaned. He leaned back, momentarily forgetting he was in a porch swing, and had to flail a moment to regain his balance again. “Okay, Plan B. I don’t _have_ a Plan B. Maybe Clem does.”

He shifted his weight to stand, careful of the still moving swing. Once on his feet he made his way to the door, but it opened before he could grab the knob. Bo emerged wearing the same steely expression. He had one hand in his pocket, and as Mitch backed up a few steps he could see the man’s fingers moving absently inside. 

“Sit down, son.” Bo thankfully gestured toward the other side of the porch where the non-moving chairs were. Mitch selected the old wicker chair that Fran had purchased from her cousin’s yard sale years ago. She’d liked the pattern, she told him, and nevermind that it pinched your bottom whenever you tried to stand up. Bo took the bench seat, his broad frame enough to fill the space despite the expanse of wood next to him. 

Mitch tried to stammer an apology. ‘I’m, uh, I’m very sorry if I offended you -” He stopped abruptly as Bo held up his hand.

“You know, I’ve never really given much thought to this moment. I briefly entertained the idea when she was in high school dating Vic’s boy. Fran dreamed she’d settle down with him and raise her family right here in Folsom, but I knew better. Our Jamie never settled. She soared. She rose above her tragedy and the pitfalls of this town and made it out. She made it through college and all the way to Los Angeles. She was making her life there, and I’d made my peace with it.” Bo took a deep breath in, and when he let it out Mitch saw the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Each time she called Fran would ask about boys - men,” he corrected. “But I never did. It’s not that I gave up hope, it’s that I decided that Jamie knew what was best for her, and I was happy if she was.”

Mitch felt like Bo was waiting for him to say something, so he did. “I feel the same way.”

“Which is why it works,” Bo nodded. “The two of you. She wants you to be happy, and you want the same for her. Luckily, the thing that makes you happy is each other. I’ve seen her light up at just the mention of your name. I saw how devastated you were last year when you thought we’d lost her. There’s no one else on this earth who could love her better than you, and I thank God each night she found you, Mitch.”

To say he was stunned was an understatement. He gaped openly for a moment, completely overwhelmed at the compliment he’d just been paid. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Mitch stood and offered his hand.

“Thank you.”

But Bo didn’t grab his hand. Instead, he pulled the one from his pocket and held it out. Sitting on his palm was a ring, the band thin and pale gold. The jewels were small but beautiful, a white diamond accented on either side by smaller emeralds. Mitch had never seen a more beautiful ring.

“This belonged to my mother,” Bo explained. “When she passed, she told me to give it to one of my boys. Now I love my daughter-in-laws dearly, but it just never felt right. I know why now. I was saving it for you.”

Mitch was speechless. He clenched the muscles in arm tight to keep his hand from shaking as he reached for the ring. His fingers pinched the band and he brought it closer to his face for inspection.

“It’s...I don’t know what to say.”

“Nevermind that,” Bo clapped his shoulder heartily. “Welcome to the family.”

Mitch spent the rest of the afternoon in a haze. Bo had suggested he take a walk to “work off the jitters,” and he found himself in a lovely expanse of fields that were likely once rows of sugar cane. Bo and Reese had obviously started working the area again, clearing out the weeds and replanting. Mitch wondered how many other Folsom residents were doing the same, assessing their land and getting back to work. He hoped they could recover, especially after they’d worked so hard after the Reiden Global disaster. He’d hate to think of this quaint little town disappearing completely from the map.

As much as he loved it, though, Mitch knew he could never live here. He needed more to do than just examine livestock and pets. It’s why he loved working at zoos. The variety of animals, the challenges their care presented, the joy he felt whenever he managed to work out a particularly difficult problem...it thrilled him.

He wondered what Jamie would want to do. After everything, of course. After they did their press tour, after things settled down. He knew she was working on the very beginnings of a book, and she seemed genuinely enthusiastic about it. He hoped she continued it. Their story deserved to be told, and Jamie deserved the attention for it. And maybe - just maybe - Reiden would get what _they_ deserved, too.

The sun was sinking when he finally reached the end of his mental rails. He’d sussed through everything, replayed moments in his head, and managed to concoct something resembling a speech for later. He’d wanted to do something super romantic, but that really just wasn’t his style. Or hers. Surrounded by family - by people who loved them unconditionally - was better than any candlelit restaurant or fancy proposal.

“Where were you?” Jamie accosted him the moment he stepped through the door. She was almost panicking, and Mitch was startled to realize he’d been walking for almost three hours. “I tried calling your cell.”

“I went for a walk,” he told her. He pulled out his phone to check and grimaced as he realized it had been on silent. “Sorry,” he told her. The rest of the team stood off to the side, and Mitch found Abe’s eyes as he offered another apology for his earlier behavior.

“ _Karibu_ ,” Abe replied. Mitch didn’t know Swahili, but the meaning was clear. _You’re welcome_.

Mitch was content to sit back and listen as the chaos that was dinner unfolded. They’d managed to find another table to fit everyone, though proximity hardly seemed to matter. Questions were shouted across the room, laughter filled the space and there was a warmth that had nothing to do with the still-cooling oven. It was perfect.

“Excuse me.” Mitch stood and the room fell silent. He swallowed down the butterflies that threatened to flutter up from his stomach into his throat and spoke from the heart. It wasn’t terribly good or well-planned, but it didn’t have to be. He spoke from his heart, thanking each of them for being his family, both related and not.

“And I can’t do anything about you three,” he teased Abe, Jackson and Dariela with a smile before turning a more serious one on Jamie. “But I can do something about you.” She sobered instantly, and he had to fight to keep from laughing at the startled expression on her face. “Jamie Leigh Campbell…” He couldn’t resist now that he knew her middle name, and he saw the flash of mirthful warning in her eyes as he moved over to her and carefully knelt down. His muscles were protesting the abuse he’d put them through today and he knew he’d pay more dearly for it tomorrow.

But he didn’t care. He slipped the ring from his pocket and held it carefully between two fingers. Her eyes jumped from his to the ring and back again, and he knew she recognized it. _This is it_ , he told himself. _You’re really doing this_. He took one more steadying breath, caught her gaze and held it.

“Will you marry me?”

There was a beat as he watched her quick mind catch up to the events, then she exploded from her chair in a flurry of arms and tears as she yanked him up from the floor and threw her arms around him.

“Yes!” 

The room erupted in cheers and hollers as everyone else jumped up to congratulate them. Mitch’s pain disappeared as euphoria swept over him and he hugged her back. He felt hands and arms engulfing them in a group hug but he was focused solely on the woman in his arms. She was still gripping him tightly, and he could hear her laughing against his shoulder. Their family and friends were still celebrating around them, but he managed to put enough space between them to slip the ring on her finger. It was a little loose but not enough to fall off, and Jamie glanced at it briefly before returning to his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear, knowing she would hear despite the raucous around them. 

“I love you, too,” she answered, squeezing him once more before letting him go. She was swept immediately into a hug by her aunt as Mitch was grabbed by his mom. The next few minutes was a blur of hugs and blessings before they found each other again.

“How long have you been planning this?” she asked once they’d all found their seats again.

“About five hours,” he admitted, earning laughter from almost everyone. “Clem wanted me to do it this afternoon.”

Jamie turned to the girl, who just shrugged and grinned broadly. “This was way better, Dad.”

“I thought so, too.” He watched as a myriad of emotions played across Jamie’s face and decided he loved them all on her. She was happy - _really_ happy - and he knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to put that look on her face everyday.

“So,” Clem bounded out of her chair and came to stand between them. “You’re gonna go tomorrow right?”

At Jamie’s questioning look, Mitch explained. “Clem had it all planned out,” he told her. “Apparently there’s a three day waiting period, so if we want to do this before we leave on Friday then we’ll have to apply for a license tomorrow.”

“You’ll need both of your birth certificates,” Charlie warned. “And a notarized application.”

“Nonsense,” Fran interrupted with a wave of her hand. “Bo and I got married in Mississippi. All they need is your driver’s license and there’s no waiting period. My cousin, Patricia, lives in Hattiesburg. Her husband’s a pastor there. He can marry you two tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Jamie reeled at the word and Mitch grabbed her hand.

“How about Wednesday? That’ll give us enough time to adjust…”

“No,” Jamie shook her head quickly. “Tomorrow. Who knows what could happen between now and Wednesday.”

Mitch had to agree and - given their track record - it was probably best to do it as soon as possible. “Alright,” he smiled as his heart pounded away in his chest, “tomorrow.”

Hattiesburg was a two hour drive from Folsom, though it took a bit longer since Charlie requested they stop to gather his wife and twins. They ended up in four cars caravanning along I-59. Mitch had Jamie had been separated at Fran’s insistence, and the last Mitch had seen of Jamie had been her apologetic wave as she was bustled into Reese’s sedan with Fran, Dianne and Clem. 

Bo and Reese had been forced into the old truck, which left Mitch riding in the Hummer with Abe, Jackson and Dariela. They were third in the caravan (Bo had offered to ride tail to make sure they didn’t get lost) and no one said a word during the first half hour of travel.

Dariela finally turned the radio on once they pulled out of Charlie’s drive, tuning it to a local station that played classic rock and old country tunes. Mitch sat in the back with Jackson and tried to calm his nerves, reminding himself that he’d done this before.

 _This is different_ , his heart reminded him. He and Audra had married for the wrong reasons, trying desperately to craft a family from the accidental miracle that had been bestowed upon them. Even as they’d stood in front of of the judge and recited the words, Mitch hadn’t felt the soul-consuming love that had been described _ad nauseum_ in books and movies. He’d chalked it up to his own shortcomings and told himself that he loved her. And he did. Audra had been the one to pull him out of the spiral after Allison, had validated his feelings of betrayal and anger and had condemned both Allison’s actions and his father’s. But the damage had been done, he’d assumed. Clem came along and they were happy, for a while. But he couldn’t give Audra what she needed, and he’d bowed out before the tension between them grew too dark, too full of resentment to leave him any happy memories. 

But his heart was right. With Jamie, everything was different - easier - and he felt no hesitation when he spoke to her about his own fears and feelings. And it had been like that from day one with her, another variation from his usual aloofness whenever he met someone new. Jamie had mesmerized him from the moment he’d met her, and he still couldn’t believe they were going to be married in just a few hours.

Mitch felt a pang of regret as they crossed the Mississippi border. She deserved so much more than this shotgun wedding, planned and executed in the span of less than twelve hours. She hadn’t so much as hinted that she wasn’t happy, but he imagined that this rushed ceremony and small party of witnesses hadn’t been a part of whatever childhood plans she’d crafted for this day. Other than the one on her finger, they had no rings, no cake, not even a wedding party. He wondered if Jamie had asked anyone to be her maid of honor and almost asked, then thought twice. If she had, then he would be forced to pick a best man, and he had no idea how he would choose between Abe and Jackson. They were the closest things he had to “best friends,” though truthfully the only one who really fit that bill was going to be his wife. 

“I can hear you thinking from over here,” Jackson joked as they slowed for an emergency vehicle. “Not having second thoughts?”

“What? No,” Mitch shook his head. “Of course not. I just…” he blew out a breath and turned to look out the window. The scenery of southern Mississippi was unremarkable, much like most highway drives. With nothing to grab his attention, he was forced to answer Jackson’s questioning stare. “I was just thinking about the wedding,” he said honestly. “Jamie probably had all these plans for a huge ceremony and reception, with all the bells and whistles. This is...less than what she deserves, I guess.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints from her,” Dariela pointed out. “She loves you. That’s all the matters. The rest of that is just...fluff.” She said it with such disdain that Mitch couldn’t help but laugh.

“I thought all you girls planned these glamorous fairytale weddings when you were kids?”

“Yeah, well, some of us had other things to worry about.” She caught his eye in the side mirror and shrugged. “Besides, you can always plan a big reception or whatever when this is all over.”

“Right,” Mitch nodded and filed that away for the future. It was a good idea, and he would definitely talk to Jamie about it. Then, before he could think about it, he asked, “Did she talk to you about being maid of honor?”

“Actually,” Abe jumped in with a side glance. “She asked me to stand with her.”

Mitch laughed at his joke, then sobered when nobody joined him. “You’re serious?” Abe nodded solemnly. “Huh. Well, I guess that means I don’t have to decide between you and Jackson, then.” He turned his head to the man sitting next to him. “How about it, Oz? Wanna be best man?”

Jackson just grinned. “Why not?”

Fran called Dariela’s cell when they crossed the city limit. Mitch only heard one side the conversation, but he gathered enough context clues to get the gist. 

“Fran says she wants you to close your eyes and not open them until Jamie’s inside the church.”

“This is ridiculous,” Mitch pointed out.

“Jamie probably isn’t the only one who had big plans for this day,” Abe pointed out. “Just do as she asks.”

They rounded the last corner and Mitch dutifully shut his eyes the moment he saw the steeple in the distance. He waited as Abe parked, and then listened as Dariela narrated Jamie’s movements from her car to the church.

“And she’s gone.” 

Mitch opened his eyes, stepped out and looked around. He’d been half-expecting one of those enormous megachurches that had thousands of members and broadcast their Sunday worship services on a local channel on Sunday evenings. But apparently Fran’s cousin’s husband wasn’t that kind of preacher.

Calvary Baptist Church was a modest one story L-shaped building that sat on a corner lot. Three interconnected parking lots stretched out behind it, and another smaller lot crossed in front of the main doors. It was here that their caravan had parked alongside a late model SUV with an ichthys emblem above the back left tail light and a small cross decal in the back window.

The front doors, as well as the entire facade around it, was painted white. The steeple Mitch had seen from the road towered above the main doors, which led into the shorter part of the “L.” A young man of about twenty was standing just outside, atop the wooden steps painted to match the rest of the building. 

“Welcome to Hattiesburg,” he greeted. “I’m Michael Greenbaugh. My dad is the pastor here. He said to take you to the conference room.”

Introductions were made on the way, and soon Mitch found himself in a very pristine room with a mahogany table and eight luxurious chairs. He guessed this room didn’t see many people judging by the fine layer of dust that coated the tops of the picture frames, though it was fancy enough that Mitch didn’t dare reach out to clean them.

“Dad said he’d come by in a few,” Michael explained. “I’ll fetch some water and sandwiches for you.”

“Gotta love that southern hospitality,” Dariela remarked as Michael dashed away. 

“Where did everyone else go?” Abe wondered, peering up and down the hall. But no one materialized, leaving the others to just shrug.

“I’m guessing the girls are with Jamie,” Jackson said. “I have no idea about the others.”

Mitch sank down in a plush chair and drummed his fingers absently. His nerves were beginning to ratchet up again, and he had to take several steadying breaths before he could organize his thoughts.

A knock on the door was the only warning they got before it opened, admitting a man in his early fifties with salt and pepper hair and bright green eyes. There were laugh lines around his mouth, and they deepened as he offered his guests a broad smile.

“Good morning,” he stepped into the room and didn’t bother shutting the door behind him. “I’m Thomas Greenbaugh. My wife, Patricia, is Fran’s cousin.” He shook hands with everyone before clapping his together. “So which one of you is the lucky groom-to-be?”

“That would be me,” Mitch waved.

“Excellent. I wonder if you and I can walk together for a moment?”

“Uh, sure.” Mitch followed him out into the hallway and fell into step as he meandered down the corridor. 

“Fran told me all about your circumstances,” Thomas kept his eyes on the hall as he spoke, his tone even and sure. “Normally I require six months of counseling before I even consider performing a wedding. Do you know why?”

“To make sure one of them won’t kill the other for the life insurance right after the honeymoon?” Mitch offered.

Thomas laughed. “That’s part of it, I suppose. I always want to be sure that both parties involved fully understand the commitment they’re making. I often see too many young people rushing into something their simply not ready for.”

“That’s not -”

“Oh, I know,” Thomas went on. “As I said, Fran has told me everything I need to know. You know, I met Jamie once when she was just a little thing. It was at a reunion or another wedding? I can’t recall. But she was certainly unforgettable. A little redheaded spitfire, running around with the boys and calling the shots even though she was just five or six. I met her mom that day, too. Lovely woman. I was sad to hear that she’d been affected by that awful sickness.”

“Not that I’m not loving our little chat,” Mitch glanced around and realized he had no idea where they were. This hall looked exactly like the other, but when he glanced back he didn’t see the open door of the conference room. “But why are we here?”

“Because,” Thomas clapped Mitch on the shoulder and grinned. “You’re getting married today, and you have nothing to wear.” He opened the nearest door with a flourish, revealing a long closet full of clothes. There were robes for each member of the choir done in almost half a dozen different colors. Larger white frocks hung in the back - _probably for baptisms_ , Mitch thought. 

Thomas led him through the narrow gap between the clothes and stopped at a section near the middle. Suits of various shades and sizes were hung there, each with a tag labeled in a neat script that detailed the size and color.

“Pick one you like,” Thomas gestured. “These are for our ushers during formal events like Easter and Christmas. They’re not the most expensive in the world, but it’s better than jeans and a t-shirt.”

Mitch disagreed, but he also reminded himself that this hasty wedding had been (mostly) his idea and the least he could do for Jamie was dress for the occasion. He selected a black suit and a white dress shirt from the rack, then hunted through the assortment of ties until he found one that he didn’t hate. Unfortunately there was no magic shoe rack to be found, so his broken in sneakers would have to do.

He changed in an anteroom across the hall, and though the sleeves were about half an inch too short and the pants about an inch too long, Mitch thought he cleaned up rather nicely. Thomas nodded in approval as he stepped back into the hall, then gestured for him to follow.

“Bo and the boys went to the store for some things,” Thomas explained. “Patricia brought a few dresses for Jamie to try on. I need to check on a few things, so I’ll take you back to your friends then come get you when we’re ready.”

“Sounds good,” Mitch nodded. “And thank you...Father?”

Thomas laughed. “Brother Thomas is what my congregants call me, but just Thomas is fine.” He held out his hand and shook Mitch’s firmly. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I’m sure Fran only told the bare minimum, but even what I heard I still don’t believe.”

“Try living it,” Mitch quipped, offering the man a final wave as he smiled and disappeared down the hall.

Dariela gave a low whistle as he stepped back into the conference room. “Hello, Professor.”

Mitch just rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” He used one of the framed photos to catch his reflection as he tried to comb his hair into submission with his fingers. 

“It’s hopeless,” Jackson came up behind him. “Maybe I should marry her instead.”

Mitch was grateful for their good-natured ribbing, knowing they were only doing it to keep his mind from spiralling too far out of control. He had a nasty habit of overthinking things, and if given the chance he was sure he could talk himself out of this. Jamie deserved so much more - someone better than a washed up scientist with a failed marriage already under his belt. 

He slammed the lid on that line of thinking immediately, turning his thought instead to Thomas’ words. What kinds of things could Bo and the others be getting from the store? What kind of dress would Jamie be wearing? Had he ever actually _seen_ her in a dress before? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t think so. Dresses weren’t exactly conducive to the rough-and-tumble, end-of-the-world lifestyle they’d led for the past fifteen months. And he was pretty sure he’d remember seeing Jamie dressed in anything other than jeans and a blouse that had become her staple.

“Mitch?” Abe’s deep basso pulled him out of his own head, and he blinked owlishly in reply. “It is time.”

And so it was. Michael was standing by the door with a pleased smile and bright eyes like his father’s. “Ta-da!” He produced a manila envelope with a flourish and offered it to Mitch.

“What’s this?”

“Your marriage license. Normally you have to apply in person, but I have a friend in the County Clerk’s Office. I had your mom and Reese text me all of your information.”

Mitch flipped the top of the envelope back and pulled the thin paper from within. Sure enough, every line was complete except for the signatures. “Wow.” It was becoming more real with each passing minute, and seeing their names in black and white struck a chord in him.

“Dad said to get you and bring you to the multipurpose room.”

That caught Mitch off guard. He’d expected they would be married in the sanctuary. His surprise must have shown on his face because Michael launched into an explanation immediately after they began walking.

“Dad said that Jamie said you might not be comfortable in the church proper,” he said. “So we found a compromise.” His conspiratorial smile told Mitch that he wasn’t going to share said compromise, but Mitch couldn’t really focus on that. He was too busy putting one foot in front of the other and making sure he didn’t trip over his own feet on the way to his wedding.

Multipurpose was an odd moniker for the large space that Michael led them to. Though, Mitch supposed, that was probably the point. It could become whatever they needed at the time, from a banquet room to a meeting hall to a secondary worship space. He expected to see his and Jamie’s family gathered there, but as they entered it was eerily quiet.

“Jamie’s on the opposite side of the courtyard,” Michael explained. “The others are out here. Come on.” He opened a side door that Mitch had thought was an emergency exit. It turned out to lead to a small garden courtyard contained completely within the church’s walls. There were rows of magnolias around the perimeter and lining the walkway, which looked appropriately like a cross. The smaller section stretched from the door they’d exited to another identical one across the way. Jamie was just beyond, Mitch reminded himself, though he couldn’t see through any windows. 

The longer part of the cross stretched to his right and the shorter part to his left. The left side ended in an impressive floral arrangement that was likely hell on everyone’s allergies in the springtime. The right side led to a large red maple tree that had obviously been here since before the church was built. Mitch’s estimation of Thomas and his family ratcheted up a notch as he admired the old tree that was so cherished that they built their church around it. A bench sat just in front of it, and it was here that a hastily constructed lattice archway had been constructed. Bo and Reese were just finishing up the spiral of Christmas lights on either side when Mitch approached.

“What do you think?” Bo reached down and connected the plug to an extension cord, and the entire thing began to twinkle softly with white light. From somewhere behind the tree Mitch heard the faint strains of music, and when he peered around he saw Charlie fiddling with an iPod and a docking speaker. 

“It’s my wife’s,” he explained. “Megan is a huge music lover. She’s got a million songs on here. We spent the whole ride over here coming up with a playlist.”

Mitch looked around at the miracle that had come together before him and he smiled. “Thank you. All of you. This is…” He trailed off, unable to think of anything suitable.

“We know we did good when Mitch can’t speak,” Dariela joked, earning her a half-hearted glare from the scientist. 

The side door opened and Thomas came out, along with a woman who Mitch guessed was his wife. “She’s ready. Are you ready?”

“More than,” Mitch replied. He was still nervous, but now that the moment was here his nervousness was overshadowed by the _rightness_ of this. 

Thomas smiled at his answer and came to stand next to him. Jackson took up the space just behind him as Abe backed up a bit to leave room for Jamie. Her family poured out of the church and stood along the stone path as Charlie pressed a button on the iPod.

A soft melodic piano line floated through the air. It was familiar, but Mitch was woefully inept when it came to pop culture. He heard his mother sniff wetly and raised an eyebrow at her. She dabbed the corner of her eye with her sleeve and smiled at him, mouthing something he couldn’t understand. He realized she was trying to tell him the name of the song, but his attention was suddenly pulled from her to the vision standing at the end of the walkway. 

Like him, Jamie had borrowed clothes for the ceremony. Unlike him, she looked absolutely stunning. The dress she wore was a rich cream color, and Mitch suspected the style probably had some fancy name he couldn’t be bothered to remember. Her hair had been pulled up into a bun, though wisps of it had escaped and fluttered about her face and neck as she tucked her hand into the crook of her uncle’s elbow. He whispered something to her that made her smile, and Mitch’s breath caught in his throat. 

The music crescendoed as she began walking toward him on her uncle’s arm. Mitch glanced over at his mother and daughter, smiling at the thumbs up from Clem. He gave her a quick nod before returning his eyes to his bride.

 _Oh my God_.

She was standing in front of him before his mind could fully process his own words. His bride. Jamie was about to be his wife. This was really happening right now.

Thomas started speaking, going through the openings of a traditional wedding, but Mitch couldn’t stop staring at Jamie. She was staring right back, her eyes shining with the same delight that seemed to have taken hold of him. 

“Mitch.”

He blinked and turned quickly toward the pastor. “Huh?”

Everyone chuckled - including Jamie - as Thomas indicated he should take Jamie’s hand. He did so gladly. “I have not spoken with the bride and groom regarding their wedding vows, so if it’s alright with you we’ll stick with the version we usually use here. Do you, Mitch, take Jamie to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you swear before God, before your family and friends, that you will love, honor, cherish, respect and comfort her, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health? Do you promise to share your joys and sorrows, help her when she needs help and turn to her first when you need help and, forsaking all others, to be faithful to her alone?”

It was easiest question he’d ever been asked. “I do.”

He felt Jamie’s fingers tighten within his grasp as Thomas turned to her and repeated the vow. “Do you, Jamie, take Mitch to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you swear before God, before your family and friends, that you will love, honor, cherish, respect and comfort him, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health? Do you promise to share your joys and sorrows, help him when he needs help and turn to him first when you need help and, forsaking all others, to be faithful to him alone?”

“I do.”

“Then, by the power vested in me by the state of Mississippi, I pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together today, let no man tear apart. You may kiss your bride.”

But Mitch was a beat ahead, his lips pressing against Jamie’s before Thomas finished speaking. He heard everyone start to cheer, but the only thing that mattered in that moment was his wife. 

His _wife_.

 _Jamie_ was his _wife_. A weird sort of bubbly feeling erupted from his gut, slipped past his throat and spilled off his tongue in an elated giggle. He realized with a start that he was feeling happiness - true and pure happiness - and for once he didn’t bother stuffing his emotions back down. 

Mitch lost hold of Jamie’s hand as they were set upon by their family, but he kept catching her eye as they were passed from one person to the next. Once, between Bo’s hearty back slap and Dianne’s weepy hug, he mouthed “I love you” to her. She returned the sentiment, along with her own giddy smile, and Mitch knew he wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by the moment. Despite the odds, amid the horror and anarchy that had surrounded them, after so much heartache and despair, they’d made it. 

Mitch had told Jamie once that he didn’t believe in fate, that things happened by chance and by choice and not because of some preordained plan. But standing here with her now - not just as her friend and lover, but as her husband - he was definitely beginning to believe.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team heads to D.C. to brief the President. Jamie has a surprise for Mitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
> 
> Interstice: An intervening space; A small or narrow interval between parts.

Jamie woke up before Mitch on Friday morning, though she didn’t make a move to get out of bed. It was still dark out her window and she could hear Clem’s soft breathing from the makeshift bed near the closet. _Her family_. It was still unbelievable to her sometimes. It had only been three days and, although she had understood what marrying Mitch meant, it was still weird to think of the girl as her step-daughter. 

She was married. That thought was still new to her as well, and she reached over to fiddle with the ring on her left hand as she repeated the phrase over and over in her head. Married. She and Mitch were married. The ceremony had been short but sweet, not quite what she’d pictured as a child but no less perfect because of the man standing with her. She’d been surprised to see him in a suit, though her own nerves and excitement had quickly overwhelmed her curiosity. The faint strains of music emanating from Charlie’s iPod had been enough to ground her and allow her to focus as Uncle Bo led her down the walkway.

The Greenbaughs had been kind enough to open their home for the after party. It was an expansive manor on a large plot of land. The front lawn was overgrown and the windows had been boarded up, but the backyard looked like it could be used as a model for a magazine. The lush green grass was clipped evenly in neat rows and large maple trees dotted the area, casting large shadows across the lawn. The Greenbaughs obviously weren’t strangers to hosting a large party because in a matter of minutes they produced enough tables and chairs to seat everyone. 

The party had lasted well into the evening, and Thomas kindly offered their home for everyone to stay the night. Jamie and Mitch had been given the guest house out back, a small cottage with one room and a kitchenette. They’d made good use of it, and the next morning both of them were teased endlessly about the dark circles under their eyes.

Things had settled back down once they drove home. Sam and his family had stopped by to say hello, and Jamie was surprised at the almost brotherly fondness between her cousin and Mitch. 

“Hey,” Mitch’s rough whisper pulled her from her thoughts, and she burrowed into his warmth as he rolled toward her. “It’s too early for that much thinking.”

“Says the man whose brain never shuts off.” 

He hummed in reply and kissed her forehead. “What time is it?”

“Almost six,” Jamie told him. Then, with a heavy sigh, she added, “We have to leave today.”

“I know.”

“What do you think Allison will say?”

His eyes cracked open at that, though she could barely tell. “About what?”

“About this,” she ran her left hand down his arm and set it between them. “Us being married.”

“I don’t give a sh- I don’t care what she thinks,” he amended as she cleared her throat pointedly. Clem was probably asleep, and she was almost twelve, but it still felt weird. She supposed it was her newfound status as step-mother, but she was suddenly very self-conscious where the girl was concerned. 

“I don’t either,” Jamie agreed. “But you and I both know she isn’t going to just ignore it.”

“We don’t have to tell her,” Mitch offered. “Do you want to keep it to ourselves for now?”

“No,” Jamie balked at the idea. There was nothing to be ashamed of, and anyone who didn’t like it wasn’t worth the time it would take to tell them off. She could tell from Mitch’s tone that he didn’t like that either, and somehow knowing they were on the same page bolstered her. “No, I don’t. I mean, it probably won’t be the first thing I say to her, but I don’t think we should lie if she asks. It’s none of her business anyway.”

“Good,” Mitch’s fingers curved around her hip and pulled her closer. “Full disclosure: it will probably the first thing _I_ say to her.”

Jamie rolled her eyes and stifled a gasp as he turned to his back, bringing her with him. She clutched at his shoulders to stay balanced, and once they had settled she was lying completely on top of him.

“Mitch,” she hissed as he began kissing her neck. “Mitch, Clem is right there.” She couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped her as his lips pressed firmly just below her ear. 

“Can I help it if my wife is irresistible?” he murmured back, his teeth grazing her ear lobe lightly. Jamie felt her eyes flutter shut as a thrum of energy shot through her at his words. They’d both been surprised on their wedding night when he’d said something similar and Jamie had responded...arduously. He’d teased her later - cautiously amending it to “the ‘w’ word” lest she jump him again - and she’d laughed with him. She’d had no idea the effect that simple four-letter word would have on her, but every time it spilled from his lips she couldn’t help herself.

She almost surrendered to his ministrations, but then Clem shifted under her blankets and they both stilled comically. She could hear Mitch’s heart pounding under her own, their rhythms synced in a quick pace from passion and panic. The girl finally stilled with a heavy sigh, and her following breaths were shallow and even. She was still asleep.

“Too close,” Jamie warned as she carefully pushed away from him and stood up. Her shirt rode up when she stretched, and Mitch’s hand was warm as he caressed the soft skin of her stomach. “Behave.” She swatted his hand away and left him in bed as she padded across the hall to the bathroom.

She paused at the top of the stairs to listen to the soft sounds of her aunt bustling about in the kitchen. Reese and Uncle Bo were probably already up and out tending to the morning duties that came with living on a farm. She knew from experience that they would return just after sunrise, and Uncle Bo would settle in his chair with a mug of coffee and the paper as Reese helped his mother with breakfast.

Jamie closed her eyes for a moment as a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Her teenage years had been fraught with grief and anger, and it killed her now to realize everything she’d missed back then by shutting herself away from the world. Looking back, she knew her childhood had been one full of love and happiness. She’d been lucky, though it hadn’t felt that way back then. Between her mother’s death and her father’s abandonment, young Jamie had felt anything but lucky. 

“You gonna stand there all morning?” Mitch was leaning against the door frame of her bedroom looking almost smug. 

“Just thinking,” Jamie whispered back, mindful of the still-sleeping occupants of the other two rooms on the second floor. 

Mitch pushed away with his good shoulder and walked toward her. “About what?” He stopped behind her and wrapped both arms around her middle, tugging her back gently to rest against him.

Jamie laid her hands over his on her stomach and let her head fall back to his shoulder. She felt his lips press into her hair just above her temple as she relaxed in his embrace. “Growing up here,” she told him honestly. “I was so awful to them after my mom died. I wish...I wish I could go back and tell myself how lucky I was to have such a great family. They all did so much for me, and I was so ungrateful.”

“They know you love them,” Mitch murmured in her ear. “They know it now, and they knew it back then. You were twelve, Jamie. No one blames you for being angry.”

Jamie turned around and slid her arms over his shoulders to pull him into a hug. He seemed to sense her need to just be held, so he fell silent and obliged. After a few moments she felt them start to sway. It was just a small movement side to side, a barely noticeable shift of their weight between their feet, but she smiled anyway and let him lead her in an early morning dance there at the top of the stairs. It reminded her of their first dance as husband and wife - his panicked expression and clumsy stumble as she pulled him up out of his chair and onto the open area between tables that served as the dance floor. Charlie had been nominated the unofficial DJ, and Jamie hadn’t even had to threaten him to play something nice. He hadn’t disappointed.

“We should start getting ready.” Mitch stilled their movements and stepped back. “Allison said the plane will meet us at ten.” 

Jamie was the first one downstairs after a quick shower. Fran greeted her with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning.”

“Morning,” Jamie returned. 

“Sit down,” Fran directed. “Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes. You want some orange juice or milk?”

“I’ll get it,” Jamie waved off her aunt’s attempts to get her to sit and moved to the cupboard. “Thanks for letting us stay here.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Fran fussed and dried her hands on the dish towel near the sink before returning to the oatmeal cooking on the stove.. “It’s been wonderful having you home again.”

“Well, it’s been wonderful being home again,” Jamie smiled. She filled her glass with juice and sat down at the table. “You’re sure it’s okay for Dianne and Clem to stay while we’re gone?”

“Of course! They’re family.” Fran turned around with a more serious expression. “Do you know how long you’ll be gone?”

Jamie shook her head sadly. “I don’t. A couple weeks, at least. Maybe a month? I have no idea.”

“Well don’t let them run you ragged,” Fran pointed with her spoon, though none of the oatmeal on it slipped off onto the floor. “The good Lord knows you’ve done enough.”

“I won’t,” Jame promised. “Honestly, I think Mitch is going to be the busiest of us. Everyone is going to want to know how he made the cure.”

“Then you make sure to take care of him,” Fran said. “Don’t be afraid to use your trump card once in a while.”

“My trump card?” Jamie inquired.

Fran just smiled knowingly. “You’re his wife,” she explained. “If he ever gets too busy and you think he needs a break, just tell him you miss him and you want to spend some time with your husband. He’ll have to take some time off.”

Jamie laughed. “Have you ever had to do that with Uncle Bo?”

“Oh heavens, yes,” Fran sounded almost proud. “Works every time. Sometimes, he even feels guilty enough to buy me a present.”

“Aunt Fran!”

“What?” the older woman chuckled. “Oh, it’s a win for everyone, dear. But be careful, because that road goes both ways.”

Jamie doubted that either she or Mitch would ever get so busy that they would forget about the other, but she filed the advice away anyway. It was weird to be getting marital advice from her aunt, and for a moment she was hit with the sad realization that it should have been her mom standing there talking to her about all of this. But as quickly as it had come, it faded. Her mom was gone, and Jamie had to stop living in the past. This woman had taken her niece in without hesitation and raised her like a daughter, and Jamie had taken her for granted for far too long.

Fran was surprised when Jamie wrapped her arms around her from behind, but she stopped stirring long enough to turn and hug her properly. “What’s this for?”

“For always being there for me,” Jamie spoke into her shoulder. “I know I was sort of a brat when I was younger, but you and Uncle Bo always treated me like I was one of your own. I’m really, really glad that you took me in after Mom died, and I love all of you so much.”

Fran’s arms tightened, and when she spoke again her voice was rough with tears. “Oh, sweet pea, we love you, too. You never have to thank us for taking care of you. You’re family, and this will always be your home no matter how far away you are.”

They stood there for a few more moments gathering themselves and drying tears, and as Uncle Bo and Reese walked in they were chatting about things Jamie had missed in Folsom in the years since she’d left for college.

Everyone else slowly trickled in throughout the morning, and by the time the sun was peeking over the treetops the kitchen was bustling with the activity of nine people and one rambunctious pup. Jamie was perched in Mitch’s lap as they shared a plate, talking about their plans between bites.

“Allison sent me a very tentative itinerary,” Mitch said. “We’re briefing the President and his Cabinet on Saturday, then we fly to California on Sunday for a press conference at the Salk Institute on Monday. After that, we’re supposed to go to Europe for ‘an indefinite amount of time.’” 

“I’ve always wanted to go to Europe,” Fran said wistfully.

Jamie just snorted. “Our last visit was rather memorable, wasn’t it?”

“Oh sure,” Dariela agreed. “Wait, what are you referring to? Killer bugs in England, thousands of venomous spiders in Portugal or our chasing crazy-Jackson through the streets of Helsinki?”

“All of the above,” Jamie laughed. 

“Oh my,” Fran sighed. “Jamie, I can’t wait to read your book. I imagine it’s going to be quite a story.”

Mitch nudged her slightly with his free hand as he scooped another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. “How’s that coming, by the way?”

“Slowly,” she admitted. “But I think I’ve compiled enough to start writing. I’ve never written a book before. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Bo said. “But it’s about time for you to go.”

Sure enough, it was nearing half past nine and they had to get to the airfield by ten. There was a flurry of activity as everyone finished up breakfast and gathered in the living room for a round of goodbyes. Mitch started with Jamie’s family, so Jamie reached for Dianne first.

“Take care of each other,” the older woman - her mother-in-law - whispered in her ear. “And keep in touch.”

“Of course,” Jamie promised. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

She moved from Dianne to Clem, pulling the girl tightly against her. In a moment of boldness, she dropped a kiss into her hair. “See you later, Clem.” She wanted to say more, to tell her that she loved her, but she wasn’t sure Clem was ready to hear it. They’d just met a couple weeks ago, and so much had changed for the girl in such a short time. Jamie was unsure how such a declaration would be perceived, but it was no less true for the hesitance she felt in uttering it.

Clem pulled back first. “Stay safe.”

Jamie ran her fingers through the girl’s hair affectionately. “We will.

Jamie hugged Reese just as Mitch released his hand. “It was good to see you,” she told him. “Say goodbye to Charlie and Sam for me?”

 

“Sure thing.” He squeezed her tightly, then let go. “Take care of yourself.”

Jamie nodded and stepped up to her uncle. She melted into his embrace eagerly, soaking in the warmth and love he seemed to always exude. She would miss all of her family dearly, but her uncle had always held a special place in her heart - probably because he had been the one with the closest connection to her mother.

“You come back home soon, bug,” he told her firmly. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Uncle Bo. Thanks for everything.” She kissed his cheek quickly, earning a soft smile and a fatherly pat against her shoulder. 

Fran was last, and Jamie had no words for the woman. They embraced quickly, and Jamie held on tightly as she felt Fran’s shoulders shake beneath her hands. “We’ll be back soon,” she promised. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You just take care of that husband of yours,” Fran wiped her eyes and stepped back. “And yourself, too. Be careful out there, and don’t forget to call.”

“I will,” Jamie said. “I’ll call you tonight after we land.”

“Jamie.” It was Jackson, his voice soft and apologetic. She nodded at him and wiped her own tears away as she joined the others by the door. Mitch was just releasing Clem, and Jamie wasn’t surprised to see she wasn’t the only one fighting to stay composed. Clem was leaning into her grandmother’s side as her father walked away, and Jamie offered the girl an encouraging smile.

“Thank you for everything,” Abe addressed the group. “We are grateful for your hospitality.”

“You’re very welcome,” Fran tutted. “And don’t be strangers. Our home is always open to you.”

Jamie’s friends chorused their thanks, then shuffled out the door quickly. The Hummer was a tight fit, but they agreed that taking one vehicle was better than two. Allison had been either unclear or unsure about sending their plane, and Mitch didn’t want to risk leaving two cars unattended at the airport for an indefinite period of time. Reese had promised to retrieve the Hummer if they ended up in a plane that wasn’t their own, and Mitch had gone with him the day before to make a copy of the key. 

Jamie turned in her seat as Abe drove away, wanting to keep the farmhouse in her view for as long as possible. As they crested the hill and the house disappeared over the ridge, Jamie felt a jolt of homesickness that she hadn’t felt since her first year of college. 

She felt Mitch’s hand slip over hers, and she laced their fingers together as she turned back around. “You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Let’s get this over with so we can come back soon.”

The plane waiting for them was most definitely not theirs, and Jamie shot a quick text to Reese to let him know to pick up the Hummer when he could. 

“It looks small,” Jackson commented as they unloaded their bags from the back of the car. 

“It’ll be a tight fit,” Abe agreed, “but we’ll manage.”

It was a bit more spacious on the inside than it looked, but they were still a lot more cramped than they were used to. Their pilot introduced herself as Shannon Daugherty and told them they’d be taking off in just a few minutes.

“Not even a mini-bar,” Mitch lamented as they buckled in. “Allison is definitely getting an earful when we get to D.C.”

No one spoke as they thundered down the runway and lifted from the ground; it was entirely unlike any of their takeoffs with Trotter. The flight from Louisiana to Washington D.C. normally took almost two and half hours. Daugherty promised to shave as much time as she could, but there were storms over Tennessee that would likely detour them. 

“It’s fine,” Jamie pulled out her laptop and powered it on. “That gives me time to go through the finer points of press briefings with all of you.” 

Allison met them on the tarmac as they deplaned. Jamie thought she might have looked a little more haggard than the last time she saw her, but that was probably to be expected. With the success of the cure, the Deputy Secretary of Defense was likely at the forefront of all operations. It had been her team, after all, no matter how much Jamie hated the idea.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Allison dove right into business as they were ushered toward a large stretch sedan. It was standard issue black - _and probably bulletproof_ , Jamie mused as they slid into the plush interior. The ride to the Capitol was short, but Jamie could tell so much had changed in the few weeks since their last visit. There were more people out, for one. People were slowly beginning to pick up their lives again, learning how to navigate this new world as they tried to restore some semblance of normal for themselves. Grocery store lots were half-full, and there were even people playing in a park. 

“Things are slowly getting back to normal,” Allison told them. “But there are still a lot more questions than answers.”

“Well, that’s what we’re here for,” Mitch quipped. “Just point us in the direction of the grand council or whatever it is and let’s get this over with.”

“It isn’t that easy,” Allison snapped. It was clear she was still miffed about Mitch’s rather abrupt exit last week. Jamie resisted the urge to interject on his behalf; he could hold his own against Allison just fine. “The President and his Science Council came to me last week with a litany of questions that I couldn’t answer. That’s why I needed you all. We can’t begin to move forward without knowing how exactly we got here.”

“You want us to tell our story?” Abe asked pointedly. “All of it?”

“Yes,” Allison nodded as she unlocked her tablet and began swiping through emails. “And don’t worry about those NDA’s you signed. The President has already ordered for a compelled disclosure in the interest of national security.”

Jackson perked up in his seat. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Allison looked up from her screen briefly, “that the non-disclosure agreements you signed are now null and void.”

Jamie reeled at the implications of Allison’s words. Reiden no longer had a hold over them; they were free to tell their story. Still, there was something Allison wasn’t saying, and it took a moment for the pieces to connect in Jamie’s head.

“Thank you, Allison.” 

Her suspicions were confirmed the moment the other woman looked up. She didn’t insult Jamie’s intelligence by feigning ignorance, but neither did she openly accept her gratitude. Instead, she just returned her attention to her emails and let the matter drop. It was the best Jamie could probably hope for. 

They pulled into a parking garage ten minutes later, and there were about a dozen Secret Service members standing around in various stages of alertness. It could only mean one thing - the President was on the premises. 

“What’s he like?” Jamie whispered to Mitch as they were escorted into an elevator by two agents and an aide.

“The President?” Mitch shrugged. “Uh...he’s, presidential. I don’t know, you’ve seen him on the news. He’s like that.”

None of them uttered a word after that as they were rushed through a dizzying series of hallways. They passed groups of men and women in uniforms or expensive clothes talking in hushed tones, and more than once the whispering stopped as they walked by. Jamie felt the curious stares on her back as Allison and the aide led the procession to a set of heavy oak double doors. 

Jamie had heard the term “war room” before, but this was the first one she’d ever seen in person. A large square table sat in the center, its dark wood gleaming under the fluorescent light overhead. Eight identical chairs surrounded it, their black wire frames selected for function rather than form. Banks of computers lined one wall, though only a few were manned at the moment. The opposite wall was covered floor to ceiling with a map of the country. Closer inspection revealed that it was, in fact, one large smart screen. There were several regions on the map highlighted in various colors - probably to indicate the danger level at each of those locations - and Jamie wasn’t surprised to see most of the major cities with large red circles around them.

A round table sat near the back corner, and it was here that a small group of people had gathered. The aide that had been escorting them gestured for them to wait, and he stepped forward a few more paces to address the group.

“Mr. President?”

The crowd parted, and there he was. Jamie was hit with a sort of surreal wave of disbelief as he stepped forward with a tired smile. The aide introduced them as “Miss Shaw’s Team,” but Jamie was too overwhelmed to be offended.

“Welcome back, Dr. Morgan,” the President extended his hand toward Mitch who took it briefly. “And thank all of you for coming. Secretary Shaw has told me all about your work. I have to say, it’s quite an incredible tale. The world owes all of you a great debt.”

Surprisingly, it was Dariela who answered. “Thank you, sir.” She was ramrod straight as her military training kicked in and she stood at perfect attention.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” the President smiled, then turned to Allison. “Have they been given accomodations yet?”

“Not yet, Mr. President,” Allison spoke so deferentially it was hard to believe it had been her who had spoken. “We wanted to introduce them to you first.”

“Very good,” he nodded. “I believe your briefing is tomorrow at nine o’clock. We’re all looking forward to hearing more about the cure and your adventures.” He turned back to his advisors and was immediately drawn into the conversation again, leaving the team standing alone with Allison and the aide.

“Come on,” Allison gestured toward the door. “We’ll get you settled in your rooms.”

The door shut behind them as they exited, and Jamie felt her shoulders relax. She hadn’t realized she was nervous, but now that it was over she could feel the jitters that suddenly left her. Next to her, she saw Abe and Jackson loosen up as well.

“I thought you already briefed the President,” Jamie leaned over to whisper to Mitch.

“I did,” he said. “But it wasn’t anything in depth. I talked to the Council once, but that was just to let them know that the cure had worked, that the animals weren’t a threat any longer, and that we had a whole new problem to face now.” Jamie knew he was talking about the worldwide sterility problem that affected every human on the planet. “Honestly, I’m surprised he remembered me. Our meeting was brief and uneventful. And I left rather abruptly the next morning.”

“Where are we going?” Abe spoke up from the back of the group, his deep voice echoing off the walls.

Allison glanced over her shoulder quickly. “There’s a tunnel system that will take us to the hotel across the street. We’ve already set up rooms for you.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. I wonder if the public knows the government has a series of secret tunnels beneath the city.”

Allison stopped at that and turned with a stern glare. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that anything you see or hear within these walls is strictly confidential, and in the interest of national security you will not utter a word about it. Is that understood?”

Jamie had mostly been joking, but Allison’s severe tone set her hackles up. She returned the woman’s icy stare with one of her own. “Of course.”

“We need to focus on the important matters,” Allison whirled around and continued leading them through the halls. “There’s a packet in each of your rooms that gives you the rundown of your schedule, as well as the talking points we’d like you to focus on. You won’t be talking to the press - not yet, anyway. We need to make sure we have a full grasp of all of the information before we unintentionally start a mass panic.”

She opened a door using her keycard, and the slate gray concrete walls beyond were a jarring change from the wood paneled corridors they had just come down. It was noticeably cooler in the tunnel, though that was to be expected as they walked beneath the city street. Jamie shivered slightly from the temperature change and hoped no one had noticed.

If anyone thought six people exiting a nondescript door into the lobby of the hotel was odd, they didn’t show it. The man behind the desk barely looked up, offering Allison a feeble wave as they passed him on their way to the elevators. 

They rode in silence up to the top floor, which could apparently only be accessed via keycard. Jamie thought about making a joke about going out for dinner and not being able to get back to their rooms, but decided against it. Allison didn’t look like she was in a joking mood.

“You have the whole floor,” Allison said as they stepped off the elevator into a second smaller lobby. Unlike the rest of the hotel, there were no long hallways dotted with doors. Instead, the entire center area was a circular communal space with couches and chairs. A large television was mounted on the back wall, and several complicated looking remotes sat on a small coffee table in front of the middle couch. Three doors sat on each curved wall on either side, no doubt leading to spacious suites given the size of the hotel they were in. A small hallway sat just to the left of the elevator, and Jamie caught a glimpse of a small conference room through an open door as Allison breezed into the center of the sitting area.

“The room doors don’t lock,” she told them. “Each one has its own en suite bathroom that does, though. I’ll be by around eight o’clock tomorrow to go over any questions you have. Get a good night’s sleep and be ready.” She turned to leave, but Dariela blocked her path.

“Hang on,” she held out her hands to stop Allison’s exit. “You can’t just leave us here. What about meals? Or clothes?”

Allison turned and pointed to a small white telephone mounted on the wall next to the elevator. “That phone connects you to someone at the front desk. They can bring you anything you need. Only two people in this hotel have access to this floor, and they’ve both been vetted thoroughly by Secret Service. As for clothes…” she trailed off and glanced at the rest of them. “I’m guessing none of you brought appropriate attire?”

“Appropriate for what?” Jackson asked.

Allison looked exasperated, and Jamie could hear the derision in her tone as she answered. “For addressing the President and his Cabinet. At the very least, you should comb your hair.”

“Okay,” Mitch stepped up and cut in before things could get ugly. “Look, we’re here because you asked us. And not nicely, either, I might add. So instead of being nasty, perhaps you should be grateful and find us something wear that isn’t jeans and t-shirts. Because I have absolutely no problem standing up in front of a large crowd of high-ranking officials in my sneakers.”

Allison stared him down for a moment, then sighed. “Fine. Send me your sizes and I’ll send someone out to get something for you.”

Jamie could tell by the looks on her friends’ faces that they were as enthusiastic about that solution as she was. “Why can’t we just go shopping ourselves? We have the time.”

“No, you don’t,” Allison corrected. “You need to familiarize yourself with the information in your packets.”

“We lived it,” Jamie shot back. “I’m pretty familiar with it.”

But Allison was done with their little game. “Despite what you may think, I actually don’t have the time to stand here and argue. This is how things are right now. I’m sorry if it feels inconvenient, but we’re trying to restore order to an entire country. To the _world_. Your fashion choices aren’t exactly high on my priority list. Someone will be by later.” She stepped around Dariela and into the elevator before anyone else could protest. 

“I think she’s warming up to us,” Dariela joked, earning her wry smiles from the rest of them. 

“We should probably find our packets,” Abe reasoned. They picked rooms and set their stuff inside, swapping their luggage for the bland manila folders sitting on the beds. Each room only had one, so Jamie and Dariela grabbed two from the spares and met the others in the central area.

Sometime later the elevator dinged, and the doors opened to admit a rather mousy looking man with styled black hair and a nice suit. He was on the young side - maybe a few years behind Jamie - but he looked competent enough. He fidgeted with the strap of the messenger bag hanging across his chest as he stepped out and introduced himself.

“Miss Shaw sent me to assist you,” he spoke quickly in spurts, like he was used to someone interrupting him all the time. “I’m David, David Grier.”

“Come in,” Jackson beckoned, gesturing to an empty chair.

David crossed the space in long strides and sat on the very edge of the cushion as he pulled a tablet from his bag. “Miss Shaw said I should let you shop from the store’s website and I’ll go pick it up later.” He handed the device to Jackson and let his hands fall into his lap, his fingers laced together tightly to keep from moving. He looked so high-strung, though if he worked for Allison it was probably hard not to be a little stressed out all the time. 

Dariela stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge under the television. She tossed it to David, who barely managed to catch it. “Relax kid.”

He did, but just barely. When it was Jamie’s turn to select her outfit she browsed the business section thoroughly. She’d never addressed anyone as prominent as the President and his advisors; she guessed her usual working attire wouldn’t cut it. In the end, she selected a simple skirt and blouse combo that she thought looked super boring but professional. She added shoes and pantyhose, then went ahead and ordered a makeup kit just in case. Satisfied that she’d gotten everything, she passed the tablet off to Dariela and turned to David.

“So how long have you worked for Allison?”

“Uh, t-two, no, three years,” he stammered. 

Mitch let out a humorless laugh. “Wow, that long? Usually it takes her a lot less time to break someone’s will to live.”

“Mitch,” Jamie hissed at him, then turned to David with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“No,” David shook his head and seemed to relax a fraction. “She can be...demanding. But she knows what she’s doing and she has good connections. My parents don’t understand why I put up with everything, but if I want to get anywhere in this town I have to pay my dues.”

“So what do you do for her, other than run her errands?” Mitch asked snidely. 

“Keep up with her schedule,” David ticked off points with his fingers, “answer the phone, proofread her reports, that sort of thing. It’s not glamorous work, but it’ll pay off in the end.”

Jamie could sense Mitch was going to follow that up with something less than kind, so she jumped in before he could say anything. “Where are you from?”

“Pennsylvania, originally,” David answered. “My folks still live in Allentown.”

“Done,” Dariela brandished the tablet proudly toward David.

He took it and glanced at the screen for a moment before nodding. “I should be back in a couple of hours with this.” He stood and shoved the tablet into his bag. “It was nice meeting all of you.” He scampered away almost comically fast, and Jamie glared at Mitch.

“What?”

“You scared him,” she chided softly, then stood. “David, wait.” Jamie closed the distance between them and pitched her voice low so her friends couldn’t hear. “Could you maybe pick something else up for me?” 

She spoke with him a few more minutes, detailing exactly what she needed, then thanked him profusely as the elevator arrived and he stepped inside. When she joined her friends, they were all staring expectantly.

Mitch beat the others to the question. “What was that?” 

“Nothing,” Jamie shrugged as she sat down. “I just asked him to pick up something else for me.”

“What?”

“Something personal.”

Mitch looked positively delighted. “Please tell me you just ordered lingerie on the government’s dime.”

Jamie just rolled her eyes and opened her folder, ready to pick up where they’d left off at David’s interruption. It was tedious, and more than once they had to take a break before they argued themselves in circles, but by the end they all felt more comfortable with the material and they had a rough idea of how the meeting would go. 

David returned a little over two hours after he’d left. The poor boy was laden with shopping bags, and Jackson rushed to help him as he stumbled off the elevator.

“Men always gotta make it in one trip,” Dariela quipped.

“Give the poor boy a break,” Jamie laughed. “It’s like twenty stories one way.”

They divvied everything up and laughed at Mitch’s expression when he realized there was, in fact, no lingerie to be found. Jamie had found the small bag quickly and stuffed it under her clothes before anyone saw. When she scooped it all up into her arms, it was tucked safely beneath her bundle. She was halfway to her room when Jackson asked where she was going.

“Gotta try it all on,” she said by way of explanation.

Abe sighed as Dariela disappeared into their room to do the same. “I hope it all fits for David’s sake.”

Jamie shut the door behind her and dumped her clothes on the bed. She grabbed the bag and pulled the item out, smiling as she inspected her secret purchase. Realizing Mitch could walk in at any moment, she tucked it into her pocket and set to the task of trying on the outfit she’d picked out.

Dinner passed in much the same way it always had with her friends when they had down time - lots of laughs and semi-embarrassing stories. Jamie listened to Mitch’s horrific homecoming tale and tried not to laugh too hard. Jamie had gone to homecoming with her friends, and had even spent an enjoyable portion of the evening with her sweetheart. Mitch had reluctantly taken his mother’s coworker’s demanding daughter, and Jamie could guess how it had turned out.

“Did you kiss her goodnight?” Dariela was reclined in her chair, one hand resting on her stomach and other other curled around a glass of water.

“God no,” Mitch shook his head sharply. “I didn’t even turn off my car. Just got out, walked her to her door and left.”

“At least you didn’t kick her out at the curb,” Jackson chortled. 

Mitch finished the rest of his soda in one long swallow. “Believe me, I thought about it.”

“Alright,” Jamie stood and stretched. “I’m gonna turn in. What time do we have to be up?”

“Allison said she’d be here at eight,” Abe reminded her. 

That meant Jamie needed to be up by six-thirty. “Ugh. Fine. Goodnight.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Mitch told her, standing to kiss her as she passed. “I’m gonna help Jackson clean up.”

Jamie slipped into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, washed her face and made it all the way to the bed before she remembered her prize. She dug through her clothes until her fingers curled around it. She pulled it from her pocket and stared at it for a moment as though it held the secret to cure the butterflies that had suddenly sprung up in her stomach. She slid under the covers still holding onto it, and she didn’t bother trying to hide it as the door opened and Mitch came in.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey.” She watched him as he stripped down to his boxers, going through almost the same routine she had to get ready for bed. She was on her side facing him when he laid down, and his eyes immediately fell on her clenched fist.

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Oh nothing,” she propped herself up on her other elbow and turned her hand over. “This is what I had David pick up today. And don’t worry, I gave him my own money to buy it. Well, it was Uncle Bo’s money, but I promised him I’d pay him back.” Her fingers relaxed, opening to reveal the small silver ring inside. “I have one, I figured you needed one, too.”

In the dim yellow light from her bedside lamp she saw the emotions play across his face. Surprise, delight, love. Then he laughed and held out his left hand expectantly, and Jamie’s earlier nervousness faded away. She slipped it on his third finger easily, but before she could retract her hand he grasped it and used it to pull her closer. She settled against his chest and kissed him, humming as his hand let hers go to rest against her cheek. It was one of the things she loved most about him, how he kissed her with his whole body. His hand that always seemed to cradle her face as though she were made of porcelain. His body angling just the right way to fit her against him perfectly. His lips that pushed and pulled against hers, never demanding or obsequious, but always a willing and eager partner.

She felt a familiar jolt of emotion pulse through her, and she reluctantly broke their kiss with a groan. “We have to get up early.”

Judging from his blown pupils and quick breaths, her reasoning had fallen on deaf ears. “Or we could just take a nap tomorrow.” His fingers were dancing across her pulse point, rendering the voice in her head silent. She tried to argue, knowing how horrid both of them were in the mornings after little to no sleep, but then he leaned in with a wicked grin and whispered against the shell of her ear. “We are still newlyweds, you know. We have a reputation to uphold.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their whirlwind tour of the world over, the team attends one last function in Washington. Mitch receives bad news from Los Angeles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
> 
> Interstice: An intervening space; A small or narrow interval between parts.

It took nearly six weeks for the team to complete their round of press junkets, meetings and dinners. All of them were completely drained by the time they deplaned in D.C., and when Allison told them they had one last dinner before they were free Mitch almost mutinied. Only Jamie’s hand on his arm stayed his tongue, and he let her take the lead as he fought the exhaustion creeping in. 

Next to him, the others were looking just as ragged. Dariela’s pregnancy was finally beginning to show, and it was clear the extra weight was throwing off her balance and tiring her out more easily than she was used to. Abe spent his time divided between the events and looking after Dariela, and Mitch was fairly certain he hadn’t had more than four hours of sleep in a row for a month. Even Jackson, with his seemingly boundless energy, had dark circles under his eyes. He’d spent the last six weeks trying to explain his father’s actions without apologizing for them, and in more than one country he was met with an almost distant coldness. He was now living under the shadow of a man who’d helped the Shepherds sterilize the entire human race, and it was beginning to wear on him.

Only Jamie seemed in her element at each function, greeting hosts and networking with various media people with the aplomb of someone who had mastered the business. Mitch had loved watching her, had enjoyed the confidence and grace she brought to each event. She had a light in her eyes he hadn’t seen in a long time, and it had only grown brighter when the news had reached them from the states.

Reiden was being indicted on multiple charges, including bribery, conspiracy and several violations of the federal hazardous waste law. It was a small fraction of the crimes they were guilty of, but it was a start. In the past few weeks there had been more and more evidence piling up against them, and each time a story broke Mitch saw the burden Jamie had carried for almost twenty years lighten little by little.

“So what is this dinner?” Jackson asked as they stepped off of the elevator into the same top floor space they’d occupied just six weeks earlier. 

“Allison was vague,” Jamie told him, “but she did say it was black tie, and that we’re attending as guests of the President. Apparently it’s some state function?”

Abe stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and checked the time. “Well, whatever it is, we have almost seven hours before the car arrives so I vote for a nap.”

“Seconded,” Dariela agreed, disappearing almost immediately into the room she and Abe had claimed prior. “Wake me in five hours.”

Everyone dispersed slowly, shuffling toward bedrooms to catch a little sleep before they had to get up and do it all one more time. Mitch detoured to the sofa, collapsing with a sigh against the firm cushions. Jamie paused at the door to their bedroom and glanced back at him.

“You coming?”

“You go ahead,” he waved at her. “I’m gonna read for a bit.”

He was suddenly wired and he doubted Jamie would appreciate him tossing and turning while she tried to sleep. She waved back and shut the door as Mitch reached for her laptop. He logged in to the account Jamie had created for him and got caught up on all of his emails - mostly by trashing the ones he didn’t want to bother with and moving the rest to the “Deal With This Later” folder. There were a few he did answer, like the one from his mom asking when they would finally be finished and able to visit. She’d gotten a job in Baton Rouge at one of the schools that opened last week, and now that she’d regained access to her bank account she had enough money to put down first and last month’s rent on an apartment in the city. Clem had moved with her and, though she was less than thrilled at having to go back to school, she seemed to be happy.

He had just hit send when the elevator dinged softly, opening to admit Allison. Mitch glanced at the clock, then back to her. “You’re early.”

“I am,” she breezed in and stopped a few feet from him. “I was wondering if you and I could talk.”

Mitch closed the laptop and set it on the table. “Shoot.”

“In private,” she elaborated, angling her body back toward the elevator. “There’s a lounge downstairs where we won’t be disturbed.”

He didn’t budge. 

“Fine,” she lowered herself in the chair opposite him and folded her hands in her lap. “I won’t waste your time or mine by being unnecessarily enigmatic. The President has asked me to extend an informal invitation for you to become the Principal Assistant Director for Science. You’d answer directly to the DOSTP, who answers directly to the President. You’d be helping to shape policies and have key input regarding the government’s scientific and technological advancements. Just say yes, and the President will announce it formally at dinner tonight.”

For a moment, Mitch said nothing. It took him a moment to fully process her words and when he did he still didn’t believe them. He knew Allison was only relaying a message, but he couldn’t help but think that the idea hadn’t been the President’s to begin with. He wasn’t sure what her game was, but even someone who’d only known him for a few hours would know that he’d hate that job.

“Allison, what -”

“You’re going to waste here,” she interrupted him. “You deserve to be at the fore of this new world we’re crafting, not posing for pictures and eating overpriced dinners.”

“You’re the one who set up all those dinners,” he countered hotly, his voice pitched low to keep from waking the others. “Not in a million years would I ever consider taking that job. I hate politics.”

Allison straightened almost imperceptibly in irritation. “It’s not like you have any other job offers lined up.” 

“Well, I haven’t exactly had a lot of free time to go on job interviews, have I?” He stood and she did, too. “I think you should go now. We’ll see you in a few hours.”

But Allison rarely let anyone else get the last word. “Think about it.”

Mitch didn’t even turn around as she left. He sank back down onto the couch as the doors slid closed and the car started to descend. He replayed her offer over in his head and wondered what she could possibly have been thinking. His head fell back against the cushion and he blew out a breath through his nose. When that didn’t relieve the headache he felt beginning to pound, he took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You should.”

Jamie’s voice startled him so badly, he almost fell off the couch. She was leaning against the now-open doorway wrapped in a soft gray robe he recognized as the one she’d gotten in Tokyo. He replaced his glasses and sat up straighter as she came over and sank down next to him.

“What?”

She tucked one leg under her so she could sit facing him. “Think about it. It’s quite an offer.”

“Can you honestly see me working in government?” he asked her bluntly.

“No, but Allison’s right about one thing. You don’t have any other offers. None of us do.” She tucked her hair over her ear in a gesture he recognized as a fidgeting habit rather than necessity. “Abe, Dariela and Jackson are going to back to Africa. They at least have the start of a plan. You and I? We don’t have anything resembling a plan.”

“You’re writing a book,” he pointed out.

“Hardly a lucrative career at the moment,” she returned just as quickly. “I’m not saying you should take it, but I do think you should at least consider it.”

“Well, I’m hoping to hear back from my colleagues at the L.A. Zoo. I emailed them before we left Japan, but I haven’t heard back from anyone yet.”

That seemed to surprise her. “Do you think any of the zoos survived? Or that anyone is going to want to go to a zoo soon?” 

“I don’t know,” Mitch shrugged, reaching for the laptop again, “but I do know I’d rather be in a zoo than in some stuffy government office.” He tried to make it clear in his tone that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and she seemed to get the hint. 

“Alright,” Jamie reached out and squeezed his knee affectionately. “You should try to grab a nap before dinner.” She used his leg to lever herself up, then retreated back into the bedroom. After one more check of his still-empty inbox, he joined her.

“Is it just me, or is this dinner way fancier than the other ones we went to?”

Mitch heard Jackson’s quiet question but didn’t answer, too busy searching for any familiar faces to worry about it. He had to agree, though; the throngs of military personnel in their dress uniforms and civilians in tuxedos and evening gowns made it clear that this was no ordinary dinner.

“Jamie said our table was somewhere on the north side of the ballroom,” he told Jackson. “Do you have any idea which way is north?”

Jackson jabbed a finger off to their left. “That way.” It was the same direction as the raised dias, bedecked in an ornate cloth and emblazoned with the President’s Seal. Various Cabinet members and their spouses were already seated up there, though the President himself was nowhere to be found.

“There they are,” Jackson pointed out, and Mitch glanced over. Abe was hard to miss, standing almost a full head above the others around him. The white shirt of his tuxedo was a stark contrast to his dark skin and black jacket, and as they approached he fiddled absently with the bowtie around his neck.

Dariela swatted his hand away as Mitch and Jackson joined the others. Jamie was absent, but it only took her a few seconds to materialize from a small group of gathered partygoers off to the right. Both women had dressed to the nines, having disappeared down to the hotel’s spa and salon around five. Mitch hadn’t seen them since.

“Wow.” It was the only thing he could manage to say, stunned as he was at the approaching woman. Jamie had found a deep green gown, cut perfectly and shaped to every curve of her body. Her hair had been twisted into an elegant updo, and the makeup she wore was just enough to highlight every perfect feature of her face.

“That was the effect I was going for,” Jamie smiled. “And may I say that tuxedo looks ravishing on you.” Her hands moved to his lapels, tugging gently to pull him down for a kiss. His hands fell to her waist automatically, and he couldn’t help but caress the soft fabric with his fingertips.

“Alright you two,” Dariela warned teasingly. “Save it for later.”

Mitch was content to ignore her, but Jamie pulled away with a coy little smile and stepped back. “I’m glad Allison gave us a heads up on the dress code tonight,” she said. “We would have been woefully underdressed.”

Mitch opened his mouth to make a very smooth comment about her never looking out of place, but the microphone squealed quickly and the MC for the evening announced the arrival of the President and his wife. Everyone stood, turned toward the dias and clapped politely as the couple waved in greeting and took their seats.

The MC waited until the applause died down before continuing. “If everyone will find their seats, we can begin tonight’s celebration.”

“Celebration?” Abe whispered as they each found their place. Small white cards sat on each plate, each inscribed with their names in a loopy gold font. 

Mitch held Jamie’s chair as she sat in the seat next to his. “You think the President is more of a balloons or confetti guy?” He ignored Jamie’s quiet warning to behave as he sat down, angling his chair so he could better see what was happening on the platform.

“Thank you,” the MC said. He was a young-ish guy, early thirties probably, with neatly coiffed blonde hair. He looked comfortable at the microphone, and among the nation’s leaders, so Mitch guessed he’d done this before. The man waited a few seconds for the susurrus to die out before he began his speech. “Good evening Mr. President, assembled members of the Cabinet, members of Congress, ladies and gentleman. Thank you for coming to this very special dinner, on a night none of us believed could be possible just a few months ago. My name is Brad Heltzer, and I am your Master of Ceremonies…”

Mitch tuned out Brad the MC and began to look around. As he did, he realized he did recognize a few of the attendees. One of the doctors that pioneered research for childhood diseases was sitting with her husband near the opposite wall. Mitch had met with her a few times back when Clem was seven or eight to see what could be done about his daughter’s Glazier’s Disease. She had been regretful that she couldn’t be more help, but she had opened some doors for trials and tests that Mitch would have otherwise missed. Clem hadn’t gotten better, but Mitch had always felt bad for not thanking the woman more for everything she had done. Perhaps tonight he could.

A few tables away from her sat Doctor Timothy Kevins, a renowned ecologist and mathematician. Mitch had read a few of his publications and only recognized him from the photos that often accompanied the articles. In fact, the more Mitch focused on the crowd, the more he began to piece together what tonight was really about.

“Uh, guys?”

Jamie waved discreetly, her eyes never leaving the speaker. “Shh!”

Brad was winding down his welcome speech. “...going to have a great evening. Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.”

Everyone applauded again as the President stood and shook Brad’s hand. He stepped up to the podium and held his hands up to get everyone to settle. 

“Thank you,” he spoke clearly, his voice crisp and booming. Mitch wondered if he even need a mic. “I’d like to thank all of you for joining me tonight. As Brad said, it’s a night none of us were sure we’d ever experience again. We’ve been through some terrible times, but the people of the world rose to meet the challenge with courage and steadfast determination. Even when the odds seemed impossible, even when all hope seemed lost, we never wavered. We believed that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. We believed that - as we have always done in the past - we would find a way to persevere and triumph over the trials that we faced. 

“None of us is untouched. There isn’t one person in this room who didn’t experience a loss of some kind over the past two years. Whether it be professional or personal, we have sacrificed. But I would like to take a moment to honor those who lost their lives to this great tragedy.”

The room fell silent. Not even a rustle of fabric could be heard as the gathered observed a moment of silence. Mitch felt Jamie’s hand slip into his own, and he knew that she - like him - was thinking about Chloe. Chloe, who would have been right at home in a setting like this, who had kept them focused and driven even when their support system had been revealed to be a house of cards. Chloe, who had known the mission was more important than any one person, who had ultimately given her life to stop the end of the world. 

Then, just as quickly as it had begun it was over. “Thank you. Most of you know why we are here today. In times like these, it’s important to restore a sense of normalcy. Recovering from something like this won’t be easy or quick. Each of us will heal in our own time and learn how to move forward. But before we do, we must acknowledge the work that led us here. None of this,” he gestured grandly around the room, “would be possible without the tireless efforts of these men and women.” His hand stopped just a little to his right, his hand outstretched palm up toward Mitch and his friends.

Suddenly all eyes were on them, and Mitch fought the urge to squirm. They’d been the center of attention at a number of functions in the past six weeks, but it never got less awkward for him. He wondered why Allison hadn’t given them a heads up; it wasn’t as if they would have said no to the President. 

“Will the five of you please come up here?”

Mitch froze in surprise at the request, but as Abe stood up so did he. He helped Jamie up the steps before following her, coming to rest just next to her as the President turned slightly to address them while still talking into the mic. 

“This team of amazing individuals took on a task that many of us would have shied from. I, and many of my Cabinet members, have heard their incredible story firsthand. I believe Miss Campbell is currently drafting a book based on it, so I won’t spoil anything,” he smiled charmingly at Jamie who just smiled back, “but let me just say that there are moments that are simply unimaginable. They faced danger head on, pieced together the puzzle and crafted a cure all in the span of a few months. Unfortunately, the mutation in the animals proved a more formidable foe, and it would take another year of work to finally find a solution that worked. They showed bravery in the face of impossible odds, and through their work they saved the lives of - not only every American - but every single man, woman and child in the world.

“So allow me to extend my thanks. As President of the United States, on behalf of the American people. As a citizen of the world, on behalf of all of us. Thank you.” He turned toward the man sitting just to his left, and Mitch finally saw the long wooden box that had been sitting rather innocuously on the table. 

The President turned with the box in his hand and gestured for them step up closer. “In acknowledgement of your achievement, and as humble thanks for your efforts, I hereby award to the five of you the nation’s highest civilian honor, the Presidential Medal of Freedom.” He opened the lid to reveal the medals, all laid neatly in dark purple velvet. He slid the first one out and turned toward them expectantly.

Mitch actually had to nudge Jamie forward when her name was called. She took one halting step, then seemed to regain her composure as she came to a stop next to the President. She lowered her head as he placed the medal around her neck, shook her hand and thanked her again. Her eyes were wide when she turned around to walk back, her lips mouthing a “wow” to them as the President called for Abraham. Dariela was next, then Jackson. 

“Doctor Mitchell Morgan,” the President announced, and Mitch shuffled forward awkwardly. He kept his eyes on the man in front of him and tried not to think about the hundreds of people just beyond who were staring at the moment with rapt attention. He shook the President’s hand and accepted the medal, but before he could retreat back to the relative safety of his friends he was stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Doctor Morgan, as many of you know, was a veterinary pathologist in Los Angeles before the Beast Rebellion. He’s not a geneticist or a vaccine specialist. What he was asked to do should have been impossible, but according to every story I’ve heard about the man, he thrives on the impossible.” A wave of chuckling pulsed through the crowd as the President reached back into his box. “And so, for his contributions to the field of genetic research, his devotion to scientific processes and discovery, and his pioneering work and distinguished service, I hereby award Doctor Mitchell Morgan the National Medal of Science.”

Another medal was draped around his neck, the weight of it slightly less than the first. The President shook his hand again, though Mitch barely heard his thanks over the applause that followed. As he turned to walk back to his place in line, Mitch caught sight of one more medal encased within the box. He didn’t have time to think about it as Jamie caught him in a congratulatory hug, followed by the other three. He accepted their praise almost robotically, his hands moving to embrace his friends even as his mind tried to analyze everything that had happened in the last few moments. 

But the President wasn’t done. “There is another member of their team that could not be with us tonight. Chloe Tousignant gave her life in Vancouver six months ago, making the ultimate sacrifice to save us all. She, like each of her teammates, is a hero and this ceremony would not feel right without acknowledging her contribution. Accepting the honor on her behalf is her sister, Nathalie Tousignant.”

The room broke out into more applause as a young brunette with a somber expression ascended the steps. She was accompanied by a man in his mid-thirties, though Mitch didn’t recognize him. They walked so closely together that Mitch could only see half of her body, and as she turned to face the President he saw why. Her left hand had been severed at the wrist. A memory surfaced of him standing in an IADG break room as Chloe revealed a dark truth.

_“They tied me to a chair and made me watch as they tortured my sister. They cut off her hand when I wouldn’t tell them what they wanted to know, and it was made clear that if I didn’t cooperate they would kill her.”_

He remembered her face as she’d told him, the heartbreak and pain she’d been hiding from them as she forged ahead with their mission. There had been regret, too, and Mitch realized that Chloe had never gotten the chance to reconcile with her sister before she’d died. But Nathalie’s presence now must mean that whatever had happened between the two women was all but forgotten.

The President handed the medal to Nathalie Tousignant and whispered a few private words to her. Nathalie nodded and gave the man a small smile through her tears. With one last handshake, Nathalie and her escort stepped back and took up a position on the opposite side of the podium from Mitch and the rest. He tried to catch her eye, to somehow communicate to Chloe’s sister how sorry he was that he couldn’t save her. Guilt began to creep over him as he stood there listening to the President talk about Chloe’s illustrious career at the DGSE, her many accomplishments and her never-ending faith in the perseverance of the human race. With each word the medals around his neck grew heavier, like the chains of Jacob Marley. Her ambition, her compassion, her tenacity - all of it had been cut tragically short because Mitch hadn’t been good enough to save her. She’d trusted him, befriended him, cared about him, and when she’d needed him most he’d failed her.

Mitch was so caught up in his own self-condemnation that he missed the last of the President’s speech. Only the thunderous applause of the assembly jolted him out of his thoughts. He followed the others off the stage, very nearly stumbling down the steps before Abe discreetly paused just enough so Mitch could reach out a hand to his shoulder to steady himself. Every table they passed offered their congratulations, though Mitch barely heard them.

“You alright?” he heard Jamie whisper as they took their seats. The President had relinquished the mic to Brad once more, and the MC was relaying a particularly amusing-in-hindsight anecdote about his harrowing run in with a troop of escaped tamarins from the National Zoo. 

“Yeah.” It was only when he looked up that he realized Jamie hadn’t been speaking to him at all. She’d been talking to Jackson.

The man’s face was taut with irritation and Mitch recognized the fire of resentment in his eyes. He’d had the same look for the first few days after he’d found out his father was still alive. At Jamie’s question, his brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“It’s just that guy,” he spoke quietly, mindful of the MC and the surrounding tables. “The one with Nathalie? That’s Chloe’s ex-fiance. He…” A muscle in Jackson’s jaw twitched as his eyes cut over to the table where the two sat in close proximity. “Chloe caught them together before the wedding. She called off the engagement, but since the honeymoon trip was already paid for she went to Africa on her own.”

“Where she met you,” Abe nudged his oldest friend gently. “Things unfolded as they should have. Don’t dwell on the negative, _rafiki_.”

“Forget about it,” Dariela seconded. “Enjoy the night.”

The night lasted a lot longer than Mitch would have liked. Once the President ended the official portion of the evening, they were inundated with well-wishers from all sides. Mitch had never shaken so many hands in his life. He clenched and unclenched his hand reflexively as they ascended the twenty floors of the hotel in silence. All of them seemed completely spent, and as soon as the doors opened they shuffled through the common area to their rooms with little more than mumbled goodnights. 

Jamie jumped in the shower first. He had a brief inclination to join her, but the weariness in his heart stopped him. He probably wasn’t going to be very good company tonight. He almost opted for sleeping on one of the sofas in the common area, but thought twice. The others would no doubt poke and prod the next morning if they found him out there and not in bed with his wife. And so he slipped the medals off of his neck and laid them on the dresser next to Jamie’s. He stared at them for a moment, his eyes mapping the gold eagles outstretched around the star on the Medal of Freedom, then the more simplistic circle of the Medal of Science. 

Not surprisingly, it was the second one that meant more to him. It was awarded to individuals of the highest scientific caliber, names like Van Niel, Nirenberg and Skinner. People he’d read about in textbooks. That, of course, led to the surreal realization that his name would soon be printed in a book for school children to read. He wondered if they’d print his failures along with his successes. He doubted it. A list like that might make them think twice about his current status as a hero of the people.

He sank down onto the bed bonelessly, his body finally giving up the fight to remain upright despite the exhaustion in his bones. He almost let his eyes fall closed, but the sound of the shower running through the closed bathroom door reminded him that he needed to stay awake for a few minutes longer. He definitely needed a long soak tonight.

He decided to check his emails in an effort to stay conscious, though he really didn’t expect to find anything new since this afternoon. He was surprised, then, when two new subject lines appeared in bold print on his screen. One was obviously spam, which he dragged to the junk folder immediately. The other was from Daniel Hartcliff, Curator of Mammals for the Los Angeles Zoo. 

_Dr. Morgan,_

_I am happy to hear that you survived the chaos of recent events. When you disappeared last June, several of us tried to track you down. I’m not sure if you’ve been keeping up with zoo news across the country. It’s bad. Most zoos in major cities lost a lot of containment. Los Angeles suffered one of the worst at almost 80%. The AZA is currently in the process of assessing zoos and figuring out which ones are still capable of supporting their animal populations and which ones need to be shut down completely, like ours. Animals that have either been tracked down or never left their enclosures are being catalogued and sent to zoos that can house them. It’s a slow process, but hopefully one day we can reopen._

_I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but since most of the upper management is gone, I suppose I’m the only one who can. Of all of the veterinarian staff at the zoo, you’re the only one still alive. There was an accident shortly after you disappeared. The vet staff and the lion keepers had moved the pride to the hospital for observation. Somehow the females escaped containment and killed both Dr. Bonner and Dr. Gaines, along with the techs, office staff and two of our volunteers. The zoo was closed completely after that, and I suppose you know the rest._

_I am truly grateful for all you and your team have done to ensure the survival of not only the human race, but the whole of the animal kingdom. It was an honor to work with you and, should you need anything, my door is always open._

_Best of luck,_

_Daniel Hartcliff, Ph.D.  
Acting Director of Operations, Los Angeles Zoo_

Mitch sat on the bed in stunned silence for a moment, his fingers hovering over the keys. He didn’t even know how to draft a reply to that. Gone. His colleagues at the hospital, their techs, even the receptionist...all dead. 

_Shortly after you disappeared...moved the pride to the hospital for observation._

Had it been his fault? He’d talked to Aspen just before he’d left (disappeared, the email had said), asking to borrow the cub to perform some tests. Had she relayed that to her supervisor after they couldn’t find him? Had they assumed they could figure out what was happening by examining the rest of the pride? 

Of course they had. It’s what he would have done in their place. 

Mitch slammed the laptop closed and tossed it less than gently onto the bed next to him. It bounced softly once then stilled. Mitch glared at it.

“Easy, cowboy. That laptop has the only copy of my manuscript right now.” Jamie was done with her shower. He hadn’t even heard the water shut off, too caught up in the downturn his evening had taken. She was dressed for bed in the flannel pants she always wore under a gray shirt she probably stole from one of her cousins. It had a faded gold fleur-de-lis outlined in black on the front and the name of what Mitch guessed was probably a sports team above it. The hem reached almost to her knees and the worn material looked soft, like it had been washed over and over again.

She must have seen something in his eyes, because the smirk fell from her face almost the moment he looked up. Her soft footfalls brought her to him and she sank onto the bed next to him, her slight weight barely dipping the mattress.

“What’s wrong?”

Instinct made him shrug, dismissing her concern and his grim thoughts all in one gesture. “It’s nothing,” he told her, shifting his weight to stand. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He retreated to the bathroom quickly before she could stop him and pry it out of him. Because she would. His unwillingness to hurt her by keeping secrets from her aside, she was damn good at getting information out of people. It wouldn’t be long before he was spilling all of the bleak, morbid thoughts that his mind had conjured in a short time.

He shut the door behind him, locking it after only a few seconds of deliberation. He wouldn’t put it past her to barge in on his shower to get him to talk, and as much as he loved her he really needed to be alone right now. Jamie had hung her dress on a hanger on the back of the door, no doubt letting the steam from the shower work out any wrinkles it had acquired during the evening. Mitch just dropped everything in a pile and stepped into the hot spray, letting the momentary shock burn away the darkness that had begun to creep in.

At least ten people were dead because of him. When Jamie had called and asked if he’d accompany her to Louisiana, he’d only put up marginal resistance. The truth was, he was so enamored with her she probably could have asked him anything and he would have gone along. He’d cancelled his classes and used a couple of sick days to cover his zoo obligations, all because a woman he’d known for a week had asked him to fly halfway across the country on a longshot. He could have written up a report, left a note for the keepers - some kind of warning, anything - but instead he’d decided to keep things quiet (because technically he wasn’t supposed to be using zoo resources for personal research). He’d lied to Aspen by omission, and hadn’t thought twice. Of _course_ she would be curious. They were her animals, after all, and something was wrong with them. 

So when Mitch hadn’t returned from his sick leave, they’d obviously tried and failed to find him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where their minds had gone after that. Aspen would mention his interest in the lions, and in order to do the proper tests they would need some of them in the hospital. Instead of splitting the pride, which seemed to cause distress to all of the animals, they’d transferred all of the lions into quarantine. With Nick and Eddie gone, that left their breeding male, three females and two cubs. That decision had been their death sentence.

Mitch thought about the two vets he’d worked with, John Bonner and Emilia Gaines. They’d both been so welcoming when he’d first arrived at the zoo, and despite his rather gruff demeanor he hadn’t taken him long to feel comfortable among his coworkers. They were all animal people, and animal people were Mitch’s people. He couldn’t remember if they’d left families behind. He guessed so. And their grief was his fault, too.

He bathed on autopilot, and as the last of the suds disappeared down the drain he shut off the water. He listened for a moment, wondering if Jamie had stayed up, but he could hear nothing over the sound of the drain. He toweled off quickly, cursing under his breath as he realized he hadn’t brought anything to change into. He glanced at his tux, crumpled on the floor, and shook his head. He didn’t even want to reach down to pick it up, much less put any of it back on. He wrapped the towel around his waist and unlocked the bathroom door.

He gasped quietly as the cold air from the bedroom hit his shower-warmed skin. Jamie was curled up on her side of the bed, the light from his lamp casting a soft yellow glow over her face. Her eyes were closed, but something about the way she held herself too still told Mitch she wasn’t sleeping.

Still, he kept his steps as quiet as he could as he made his way to the suitcase sitting on the dresser. Neither of them had bother unpacking, unsure how long they would be staying here after tonight. He heard Jamie shifting behind him, and by the time he’d fished boxers and a white undershirt from his belongings he felt the warmth of her at his back.

“I’m sorry,” she laid her hand lightly on his shoulder, pressing her palm into the space just below his neck. 

Mitch tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible. “For what?” 

“I got curious,” she offered by way of explanation. “I read the email. I’m sorry about your friends. And for snooping,” she added as an afterthought.

He wasn’t even mad at her. Truthfully, he was glad he didn’t have to explain it to her. Now that she knew, he could accept her condolences and move past it. “I’m alright,” he promised her, turning to face her properly. Her hand slid over his shoulder and fell to his forearm, and she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and squeezed gently.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it right now,” she shifted her fingers down a bit more, “But I’m here if you need me.” And just like that she’d grasped his hand, anchored him in the storm of his own emotions. 

He didn’t really think about doing it, but suddenly he tugged and she was in his arms. He kissed her deeply, greedily, and she responded. He tried to tell her without words that he’d always need her, that life without her was not a life worth living, that if she ever left he would be lost beyond all hope or reason. He let her hand go to cradle her face in his palms, angling her under him in effort to get just that much closer, to fuse them together so tightly that nothing could tear them apart. 

Another blast of cold hit him, and he realized that she’d untied his towel almost the same moment he’d let her hand go. He quickly replaced the warmth of the fabric with the warmth of her, and her hands slipped around his waist to caress his back. He hissed slightly as her fingers gently passed over his scars, the pinkish skin still sensitive to touch.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, moving her hands to rest on his hips. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Mitch shook his head and closed his eyes, willing the involuntary twitching of his lower back to stop. When it did he turned his head to survey the long, jagged marks in the mirror above the dresser, grimacing at the ugly crisscrossing that marred his skin. The doctor had stitched him up the best he could, but a cargo plane wasn’t exactly the best place to do it. He’d been warned there would be scarring, but at the time his only thoughts had been to get to Clem and Jamie as fast as possible. Now he wished he’d gone to a hospital first; then maybe it wouldn’t look so horrible.

“Don’t,” Jamie’s palm came to rest against his cheek, and at her gentle insistence he turned back and looked down at her sadly. “I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t care. I wouldn’t care if you had scars all over your body, I would still love you. They’re a part of you, a part of us,” she corrected sharply, reminding him of her own imperfections, “and I wouldn’t change them. Scars are important, Mitch. Scars mean we _lived_.”

She stepped forward just a bit more, fitting her smaller body against him completely. She draped her arms loosely around his back, but when his own tightened around her she reciprocated. Mitch didn’t know how long they stood there tangled in each other, but when Jamie finally stepped away his skin was cool and dry. She kept hold of his hand as she walked back to the bed, and Mitch only faltered for a second before he dropped his clothes and joined her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When tragedy strikes, Jamie must figure out how to navigate the hardships and pitfalls that arise.

Jamie looked up from her editor’s notes with a heavy sigh. When she’d first gotten the idea for the book, she’d been excited at the prospect of telling their story. People deserved to know the truth. She just hadn’t realized how much _work_ it was going to be.

This was the second time she’d sent her manuscript for editing and the second time she’d received it back with a litany of things to adjust, change or outright eliminate. A few things she could manage without, but the passage she was current working on was one she absolutely refused to erase.

Her computer chimed brightly, and her sour mood lifted. It was the email she had been expecting from Mitch. He hadn’t accepted the President’s offer of joining the Science and Technology Council, nor had he resumed his position at the L.A. Zoo. Just as she had predicted, zoos around the country had been shut down, either temporarily or permanently depending on how badly they had fared during the Beast Rebellion. Mitch had been contracted by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums to assist with the care and transport of animals remaining in various zoos across the country. It meant he had to travel quite a bit, but Jamie had settled in with Dianne and Clem in Baton Rouge to finish her book. 

It had taken almost six months to write and another two or so to find an editor she trusted. Edits, rewrites and battles won and lost meant another few months gone. At this rate, Jamie was afraid she’d never get her book out to the public. Sometimes it felt like the entire world was working against her, that once again she was fighting a one-woman war against an insurmountable enemy.

“Jamie!”

_And sometimes…_

She turned with a smile as Clementine slipped through the door, her face alight with a grin that reminded Jamie of the girl’s father. “How was school?”

Clem sank down in the chair next to her. “Good. Guess what?” 

“What?”

“I got a text from Dad. He’s coming home tomorrow!” She was practically bouncing in her seat, and Jamie shared in her delight. Mitch had been gone for a while - almost four weeks this time - and she missed him. 

“I saw the email,” she told Clem. “Does Dianne know?”

“I told her on the way home,” Clem was still nearly vibrating. “Do you think he’ll be back before school’s out tomorrow?”

“Clem,” Jamie warned, “you still have to go to school.”

Predictably, her face fell. “But -”

Jamie just held up a hand. “Tell you what,” she cut off the girl’s protest before she could get going. She still hadn’t quite mastered the “stern parent” mentality, and Clem often got her way if Dianne wasn’t around to enforce rules. “If he comes back early, we’ll come sign you out.”

Clem deflated, the joy in her eyes morphing into disappointment, then anger. “Fine.” She stood and scooped her bookbag off of the floor where she’d dropped it in her enthusiasm. “I have homework.” 

Jamie watched her leave, waiting until she heard the bedroom door close before letting out a sigh.

“Well done.” Dianne breezed through the door and parked her tote in its customary spot next to the sofa. 

Jamie offered her a weary smile in return. “How was your day?”

“Oh, it was fine, dear,” the older woman lowered herself into the chair Clem had just vacated. “How is the book going?”

“I’m not sure,” Jamie sighed again, this time one of frustration. “My editor doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of the word ‘no.’”

Dianne hummed something that might have been sympathy. “Still trying to cut that chapter?”

“Try being the operative word,” Jamie scowled. “I’m not cutting it, or rewriting it. He can just deal.”

“Tea?”

“Sure.” Jamie turned back to her laptop as Dianne retreated into the kitchen, her voice raised to reach back and continue the conversation.

“Have you told him why it’s so important to you?”

“I have,” Jamie re-read the notes left along with her manuscript. “I don’t think he understands.”

Dishes clinked lightly as Dianne prepared the kettle. “What about his other notes? Maybe if you agree to implement the rest of them he’ll agree to leave it.”

“Tried that,” Jamie felt her irritation returning as she opened the chapter in question and saw the vast amounts of red text throughout her work. “He’s just being stubborn.”

“He’s not the only one,” Dianne returned with two mugs and a knowing smirk. Jamie accepted the drink gratefully and blew on it before taking a hesitant sip.

“Hmm, thank you. I know where he’s coming from, but the rest of the story doesn’t work without this chapter as a set up. I can’t simply gloss over this information in a flashback or exposition. It’s too important for that.”

“Alright,” Dianne sat back down carefully, “then how about we find you a new editor?”

“And have to go through this process all over again?” Jamie lamented. “It’s taken almost six months to get to this point.”

“Then why not publish it yourself?”

Jamie paused at the suggestion. She hadn’t considered that, already overwhelmed as she had been with simply writing the book. Could she do it? Well, almost certainly, but it would take a lot of research and plucking the right strings. 

“Maybe,” Jamie relented. “But we’ve got better things to focus on right now.”

“Clem told me,” Dianne smiled again, this time more broadly and warm. “Did Mitch say when he would be in tomorrow?”

“No,” Jamie shook her head and took another pull from her drink. “But he usually doesn’t make it back until the afternoon, hence why I want Clem to go ahead and go to school.”

“I agree,” Dianne nodded approvingly. “He’s been gone longer this time than the others. It’ll be nice to have him home for a while.”

Jamie just hummed in agreement. When he’d first accepted the job, he’d spent anywhere from four to seven days away to examine animals and make sure they were all healthy. The AZA had kept him on after, using him as a sort of consultant to monitor the transport of the animals to their new homes. A lot of zoos around the country suffered terrible losses - both animal and human - and it was taking longer than planned to get things settled. But from the sound of Mitch’s email, things seemed to finally be reaching an equilibrium and he likely wouldn’t be called back out for a while.

“Dariela called today,” Jamie mentioned as she stood and collected their empty mugs.

“Oh?”

“She and Abe found a house in Michigan. Jackson is going to stay with them until he can get back to Africa.” Jamie walked to the kitchen and deposited the cups in the sink. She’d wash them later after dinner.

Dianne followed her, hitching her hip against the counter. “How’s Isaac?”

“He’s fine,” Jamie smiled, remembering the chubby cheeks and delighted giggle of her godson. Isaac Kenyatta was an easy going baby, always smiling and laughing no matter who was holding him. “Dariela said she’s glad Abe is taking online classes so he can help her out around the house for a while.”

“Hmmm,” Dianne crossed her arms and smiled. “I guess housewife is a weird career move from Army Ranger and Savior of Humanity.”

“Probably about as much stress, though,” Jamie laughed. “I have a hard time keeping up with Clem, and she’s twelve. I can’t imagine an infant.”

“Oh, you’d do fine, dear. And Clem adores you.”

Jamie frowned, her own misgivings and doubts about her role as stepmother once again reasserting themselves. “Really? Sometimes I’m not so sure. I know she misses her mom, and I don’t ever want her to feel like I’m trying to replace her, but sometimes it feels like she still just thinks of me as the woman who’s with her dad instead of a parental figure.”

“She’s testing her boundaries,” Dianne reassured her. “All children do it, especially preteens. Lord knows I got nearly a whole head full of gray hair from Mitch’s adolescent antics. He was so stubborn, like his father, and too smart for his age.” Jamie soaked in every word like each one was the answer to the most inscrutable questions of the universe; it was rare that she got a glimpse into Mitch’s childhood. “And she’s still adjusting. A lot has changed for her and she’s still learning where she fits in this new dynamic. That doesn’t mean she should get away with anything, though,” Dianne warned. “Set firm boundaries and be consistent, but understand that it may take a lot of time and patience for her to accept them.”

Jamie just sagged back against the edge of the counter. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’d manage,” Dianne stepped closer and reached a hand out to squeeze Jamie’s shoulder. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Jamie. You’re stronger than you realize. Why don’t you go talk to her? I’ll start dinner.”

“Thank you.” Jamie reached out to hug her mother-in-law gratefully before weaving her way through the apartment to Clem’s room. There were only two bedrooms in the place and, not needing much, Dianne had given Clem the master bedroom when they’d moved in. But when Jamie had showed up things had been shuffled around to let her and Mitch have the larger room. Clem was moved into Dianne’s room and the older woman had converted the small den off of the main sitting room into a suitable bedroom for herself. She didn’t need much space, she had claimed, and did most of her work out on the kitchen table anyway. Clem hadn’t been happy about losing her private bathroom, but the grumbling had stopped after Mitch had taken her out for a father-daughter bonding day during one of his early breaks.

Jamie stopped outside Clem’s room and listened for a moment. Faint music floated through the door - some upbeat, pop tune she didn’t recognize - as well as the soft voice of Clem as she sang along quietly. Jamie knocked, and the singing stopped immediately, though the music played on.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Jamie answered. “Can I come in?”

There was a beat of silence, and Jamie prepared herself for the moody outburst or request to leave, but then the music stopped. “Sure.” 

Jamie opened the door a bit and peeked in. Clem was sitting at her desk, one large textbook open and two notebooks on either side. One was full of what had to be notes about whatever they’d learned in school today. The other she recognized as Clem’s sketchbook, the one that the girl never went anywhere without. A half-finished drawing sat on the top page, but as Jamie slipped into the room Clem closed it quickly and swiveled her chair to face her guest.

“Listen,” Jamie started, “I’m sorry if you felt I was being unfair earlier, but your education is important and -”

Clem interrupted her with a single word. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it important? It’s not like we have much of a future,” Clem gestured vaguely with her hands. “My generation is the last one, isn’t it? Isaac is probably one of the youngest people on this whole planet, and there aren’t any more babies. My friends at school say humanity is going to go extinct in this century.”

Jamie furrowed her brow worriedly. Was this really what kids thought about nowadays? It made her sick to her stomach to think about - she couldn’t imagine what it was doing to the children. “Clem, honey,” she moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “You can’t give up hope. Everyone who can help is working on a solution to the sterility problem.”

“Dad isn’t,” Clem countered. “He’s the one who saved everyone the first time, and he’s not even involved this time.”

“Oh, he is,” Jamie assured her. “He’s been in constant contact with the scientists in charge of the problem. Just because he’s not directly working on it doesn’t mean he isn’t involved.”

“He could be doing more,” Clem slouched in her chair moodily. “Why won’t they let him help?”

Jamie tried and failed to find a suitable answer for her. “It’s...complicated, Clem. But you and the other kids shouldn’t worry about all of that.”

“Why not? One of these days, all of you will be gone and it will become our problem anyway. Why shouldn’t we start worrying about it now?”

“Because you’re just a kid,” Jamie said firmly. “And I’m not saying you shouldn’t be aware of it, but I don’t want you to worry yourself sick about it. It’s our job as adults to do everything we can to make things better for you, and it kills me to know that it might not be enough. Me, your dad, your grandmother, all of us...we’d love nothing more than for this whole mess to get resolved so you don’t have to worry about it, so that you can go on to live a wonderful, happy, fulfilling life. But the reality is it won’t, and one day you will inherit the consequences of our mistakes. But I don’t want you to worry about it now, okay?”

Clem didn’t look terribly convinced, but she nodded anyway. “Alright.” Then, as Jamie had expected, she added, “Do I really have to go to school tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid so,” Jamie tried to soothe the command with an easy tone. Clem accepted this too, this time with a bit more grace. “I’ll let you get back to your homework,” Jamie said with a pointed look at the sketchbook on the desk. “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” She stood and squeezed the girl’s shoulder quickly, encouraged when Clem returned her gesture with a small smile. Jamie paused at the door, her hand on the knob as she turned back toward her stepdaughter. “I love you, Clem.”

Clem didn’t look up from her notetaking, but Jamie saw the way her hand stopped mid-word for a split second before she replied. “Love you, too.”

Jamie closed the the door behind her and leaned against it briefly, trying to collect herself. She hadn’t meant to dive into such a heavy conversation with the twelve year old, but once the girl’s concerns had been voiced there was no way to avoid addressing them. Mitch wouldn’t be glad to know that his daughter was worrying about so much at a young age, but perhaps he had a better idea on how to distract her or at least alleviate some of those fears.

“Hurry home, Mitch.” Jamie lifted her eyes to the ceiling, her lips murmuring the quiet request before she gathered herself and went to help Dianne in the kitchen. 

****

Jamie checked and double checked the message on her phone, her frown deepening as she realized she was in the right place at the right time. Only there was no Mitch. He’d sent her a text that morning with the details of his flight, adding what Jamie could only assume Mitch thought was a cute emoticon. She couldn’t tell if the tiny yellow face was smiling or grimacing, but she took it in stride and counted it a great accomplishment that he could even find the emoticon board. Mitch’s texting skills had improved in the past year - sometimes it was the only thing she got from him all day, but he was always sure to send her at least one text letting her know he’d had a good day, that he missed her and that he loved her. Still, he likely wouldn’t ever get to the skill level of Jamie or Clem, who often had entire conversations in emojis just to annoy Mitch and Dianne.

Basic flight information was well within his capabilities, though, so when several long minutes passed and Mitch still didn’t materialize at baggage claim, Jamie began to grow worried. She tried to call, but his phone went straight to voicemail.

“Maybe he missed his flight,” she told herself. It made sense; if he had to catch a different flight, he wouldn’t be able to use his phone. But then, she argued, he would have sent his new flight information before takeoff so she wasn’t waiting at the airport for hours. Deciding that debating with herself in circles would get her nowhere, she sifted through her contacts until she found one that could help.

“Doctor Hartcliff,” the gruff voice answered after two rings.

“Dan, hi, it’s Jamie.” She’d met Dan Hartcliff once in person, just after Mitch had gotten back into contact with his old boss. He was one of those fastidious, no-nonsense types, but he cared a great deal about the earth and the animals living upon it. Better still, Mitch spoke very highly of him, which was the only stamp of approval Jamie needed. He’d proven to be a great resource for her book, helping her get a better understanding of the inner workings of zoos and the behavior of captive bred animals.

“Jamie!” He sounded surprised, though she couldn’t really blame him. Most of their communication was done through emails, though she’d Skyped him once or twice when basic text on screen wasn’t enough to explain the details she needed. “What can I do for you?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you had heard from Mitch? His plane landed almost half an hour ago and he’s still not here. Did he change his flight plans?”

“No.” She could practically hear the frown that was no doubt on his face now. “As a matter of fact, I offered to take him this morning but he insisted on taking a cab instead. Maybe he’s in the bathroom? You know how airplane food disagrees with him.”

Jamie smiled, though there was no humor in it. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I have a bad feeling.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Dan reassured her. “Listen, I have to go. I have a conference call I can’t miss. But call me later and let me know when you find him.”

“I will,” Jamie promised. “Bye.” She hung up and worriedly tapped the side of her case with one finger. A small voice in the back of her head was growing louder, telling her something was wrong. She silenced it for now and made her way to the nearest counter in search of someone who could help.

“Next!” 

Jamie stepped up to the young woman - Pam, her nametag read - and gave her best disarming smile, the one that never failed to get her the information she needed when hunting down a story. “Yes, hi, my name is Jamie Campbell. My husband was supposed to arrive on Flight 445 from Los Angeles but he never came out. Can you check and see if he actually boarded the plane?”

Pam’s smile stayed on her face as she responded in a clipped, professional tone. “I’m sorry, but I’m not authorized to reveal that information.”

“Then can I speak to someone who is?”

Her smile fell just a fraction. “I can let you speak with my supervisor, but he’s going to tell you the same thing.”

Jamie was beginning to feel the first notes of panic in her chest, but she shut them down. She was probably overreacting, but this obstacle wasn’t helping her calm down. “Is there anyone who I can talk to? I just need to know if he got on the plane.”

Pam glanced over her shoulder quickly, typed something on her keyboard, then looked back up. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t release that information. Now if you’ll excuse me, there are other customers behind you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done,” Jamie slammed her hand down on the counter and squared her shoulders. “I need to speak to your manager.”

“I’ll call him,” she said curtly, all traces of politeness gone. “You can wait over there.” She gestured to a small dividing wall that served little purpose other than to delineate the spaces between airlines. Jamie thanked her with a false sweetness and stepped away, willing her heart to stop pounding. She was overreacting, she reminded herself. Any moment, Mitch would appear with that lopsided smirk and the well-used duffel bag he’d had since almost the beginning of their adventures together. Jamie had offered to buy him a new one but he’d balked, claiming his current one was lucky and he’d use it until it fell apart. Right now, she’d gladly let him if he would just materialize and put her growing fears to rest.

“Ma’am?” Jamie turned to find a man in a gray suit approaching. He looked every inch the corporate man, down to the shined shoes and carefully coiffed hair. His smile, while not fake, held a hint of falseness to it that Jamie recognized from her numerous meetings with executives. He held out his hand when he got close enough. “My name is Simon. I understand there was a problem this morning?”

“Yes,” Jamie shook his hand quickly. “My husband was supposed to arrive on a flight from Los Angeles. I’ve already spoken with our friend in California. He says he took a cab to the airport this morning. All I wanted to know was if Mitch got on the plane.”

“I am sorry,” Simon placated, “but federal law prohibits us from sharing any personal information without direct consent from the person in question.”

“But I’m his wife,” Jamie argued.

“I understand, ma’am, but it is still against the law. I can page for your husband in the airport. Perhaps he’s still in the terminals.”

“I’ve already texted him,” Jamie sighed in frustration. “If he was here, he would have called me.”

“It is possible he was transferred to another flight,” Simon explained. “The next flight from Los Angeles lands in three hours.”

“How about this,” Jamie was beginning to get irritated with the official runaround. “Why don’t you just tell me what I need to do to find out if he was on _this_ plane?”

“We can release that information to a police officer or federal agent during the course of an official investigation.” He did look genuinely apologetic, so Jamie took a deep breath and tried to calm her temper. “Let me call our office at LAX,” Simon offered. “I can find out if any passengers from the last flight were bumped, but I wouldn’t be able to give names.”

“That’s fine, thank you.” Jamie pulled out her cell as Simon walked away, steeling herself for what she had to do next. The number was saved in her phone, though she hadn’t used it in almost a year. Mitch wouldn’t like it, but Jamie was running out of options. With one more bracing breath, Jamie hit the green dial button.

“Secretary Shaw’s office,” a young voice answered. 

It took Jamie only a second to remember the name of Allison’s aide. “David, it’s Jamie Campbell. Is Allison available?”

“Of course. Just a moment, Ms. Campbell.” There was a beat of silence, followed by a soft click as he put her on hold. The faint music played for only a few seconds before it abruptly ended and another voice came on the line.

“Jamie?”

“Allison, hi.” Jamie winced at the falsely-friendly tone she’d adopted. Clearing her throat, she rushed on. “I’m sorry to call out of the blue like this, but you were the first person I thought of.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Mitch was supposed to fly in today, but he never arrived. Our friend in LA says he got to the airport on time, and I can’t get a hold of Mitch. The airline says they can’t tell me if he actually got on the plane because of some stupid federal law. I was wondering -”

Allison cut her off. “As you can imagine, I’m busy with my own duties. I can’t just call up and demand information, especially without probable cause.” She sounded irritated, and Jamie really couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t as though she was accustomed to her ex-boyfriend/stepson’s wife to call her up after a year of no contact to ask a favor. 

“Allison, please. I just need to know if he got on the plane in Los Angeles or if he caught a later flight.” As she was speaking, Simon returned with a small shake of his head that Jamie interpreted as a bust in his search for anyone who had been bumped to a later flight. Which meant that either Mitch hadn’t ever gotten on the plane in Los Angeles, or he had and something had happened to him before he could make it to her in baggage claim. 

Allison’s sigh floated over the line. “Give me his flight information. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Jamie sagged in relief. “It was flight 445 from Los Angeles to Baton Rouge. Thank you, Allison.”

“I’ll call you back.” Allison hung up without saying goodbye, but Jamie didn’t take it personally. When this was all over, she would owe the other woman big time. Mitch wouldn’t like it, but Jamie couldn’t care about that right now.

“No one from that flight was moved to another one,” Simon told her. 

“I have a...friend,” Jamie settled on the word without much thought, “in the government. She’s looking into it now. Thank you for your help.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.” He shook her hand once more and left her to her own devices. Jamie paced the small area for several long minutes, her nimble fingers tapping out three more texts to Mitch’s phone, before Allison returned her call.

“He never boarded,” Allison told her solemnly. “Records show that he checked in on his phone the night before the flight, but he never passed through security or got on the plane.”

“So where is he?” Jamie asked frantically. “It’s not like him to not call if his plans change.”

“I don’t know. You said your friend dropped him at the airport?”

“No,” Jamie shook her head. “He was going to, but Mitch took a cab instead. You think something happened to him in Los Angeles?”

“That seems the most likely answer,” Allison said. “If you haven’t been contacted, then it’s doubtful he’s in a hospital anywhere. Unless he’s unconscious without identification.” Allison seemed to be positing the worst case scenarios almost absently, like she forgot she was actually talking to someone else. “Call your friend in LA,” she said with more authority, like they were once again in roles they hadn’t played in over a year. “Tell him to check local hospitals for John Does that fit Mitch’s description. We can eliminate that, at least. I’ll call my contact in California, see if I can get someone to start a missing person’s report.”

_Missing Person_

The phrase hit Jamie like a sledgehammer, and she had to lock her knees to keep them from buckling. This could not be happening, not now. Not when they were finally getting their happy ending. She didn’t need a perfect life, but she did need a life with him in it. If he was gone… It was a terrifying thought, fleeting though it was. She shook it off and focused on the task Allison had set to her. 

“Okay. I’m going to fly out to LA,” Jamie told her. “I can do more in person.”

“I’ll give my contact your number so you can connect after you land.” Allison sounded different now, less annoyed and more concerned. Jamie knew she still had feelings for Mitch and, no matter how twisted and weird it was for her to think about, Jamie couldn’t help but be grateful for those feelings now. It was probably the only reason Allison was being as helpful as she was despite knowing she had no chance with him.

“Thank you, Allison.” She didn’t wait for the brush off she was sure was coming. The moment Jamie disconnected, she went in search of Simon for one last favor.

A week passed with no sign of Mitch, and Jamie was nearing the end of her rope. The cab company that had taken him the airport showed the fare in their system, but the security cameras at LAX didn’t record his arrival. The driver of the cab was also missing, as was the cab itself. The local police were at a loss on how to continue, but Jamie was persistent. 

Back in Baton Rouge, Dianne was doing her best to keep Clem distracted, but the twelve year old knew something was going on. Each time Jamie talked to her she asked to speak to her dad. Jamie hated lying to her, settling on a half-truth instead.

“He’s not here right now, sweetie.”

“He never is,” Clem snapped back. “Where is he? What’s he doing that’s more important?” Hearing the scorn in the girl’s voice broke the last of Jamie’s resolve. She couldn’t keep up the charade any longer and a sob escaped her throat. Clem’s tone changed immediately. “Jamie? What’s wrong?” Distantly, Jamie heard Clem call for her grandmother. 

There was a burst of static on the line as the phone was passed from one to the other, then Dianne’s voice filled her ear. “Jamie? Honey? Breathe, sweetie. It’ll be okay.” 

Jamie’s chest hitched as a week’s worth of worry and frustration came pouring out. Dianne kept trying to get her to calm down, but Jamie could barely hear her. She clutched the phone to her ear like a lifeline as she fought to take a breath, then another. 

“Jamie? I’m going to call Dariela. Maybe Jackson can come out to help you. Jamie?”

“I’m here,” she managed finally, hating how weak her voice sounded. 

“You just keep at it, okay? Everything will be alright. We love you, honey.”

Jamie repeated the sentiment in a mumbled reply and hung up. The phone slipped from her hand and tumbled onto the too-hard hotel bed. Around her, reports and photos littered the comforter and prevented anyone from actually sleeping in the bed. Jamie had managed a few hours each night, her small frame curled around the evidence protectively, but most of her time was spent going over traffic cams, security videos and the timeline. The best she could figure, Mitch had left his hotel around eight the morning of his flight. Jamie had managed to sweet talk the hotel’s manager into giving her a copy of that section of the recording, and she’d played it over and over about a hundred times in the last week.

Feeling just a little maudlin, she keyed it up again on her laptop. It was a short ten second clip, grainy and washed out like most cheaper security cameras. She watched as Mitch exited the hotel with his trusty duffel on his shoulder. He opened the back door, put his bag in first, then slid into the seat. Just before he disappeared he glanced up, almost directly at the camera. Jamie paused the video there, her eyes tracing the blurred contours of his face. Was this the last image she’d have of him? 

Her phone rang again, and Jamie saw Jackson’s face on the screen out of the corner of her eye. She tore her gaze from her computer to answer.

“Hello?”

“Jamie? Are you alright? Dianne told me Mitch is missing.” Jamie could hear in his voice that he was upset no one had told him. Honestly, Jamie had forgotten all about her friends in Michigan in the chaos of the last week, but now that he was on the phone she desperately wanted to see them.

“He never made his flight home,” Jamie explained. “And the last time anyone saw him was him getting into the cab at the hotel that morning.”

“What do the police say?”

“Not much,” Jamie sneered. “LA is still under martial law,” she stood and paced the small space between the bed and bathroom. “They’ve got a lot to deal with, and I don’t think one missing person is high on their priority list right now.”

“So you’re going at it alone?” 

“Not the first time,” Jamie returned.

“Yeah, well, not anymore. I’ve already got a flight out tonight. Abe wants to come, too, but he’s so busy with the new baby and his schooling. I told him we’d call if we need him.” 

Relief flooded Jamie as Jackson’s words sunk in. He was coming. She wouldn’t have to to this by herself any more. “What time do you land?”

“Eleven, I think. What hotel are you at?”

“I’ll meet you,” she said quickly. “Just text me your flight info.”

“Alright.” He took a breath, and Jamie knew what was coming. “Why didn’t you call us?”

“I don’t know,” she told him honestly. “I guess I was so sure I could find him, that he’d just appear one day. I’ve been so overwhelmed with the search that I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh,” Jackson apologized. “It’s just...hard to imagine. I thought all of this craziness was over.”

The sound that escaped her throat was half a sob and half laughter. “Me, too.”

“Just hang in there,” Jackson reassured her, his voice pitched low and even. “I’ll be there soon.”

Jamie thought of nothing else the rest of the night, and the moment Jackson’s form appeared in the crowd of people exiting the terminals, Jamie ran forward and threw her arms around his neck. Tears stained his shirt as he held her, and his arms were warm and comforting as he shushed her.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered. “We’ll find him.” He repeated the promise over and over and, for a while anyway, Jamie believed him.

A week became two, then four, and finally Jamie couldn’t stay away from her family any longer. Jackson went with her back to Louisiana, and as May ended and June began Dianne spoke to their landlord about moving to a larger apartment to accommodate all of them. It took a bit of cajoling, but they finally moved to a three bedroom, two bathroom unit at the back of the complex. Jackson slept on the fold-out so the girls could each have their own room. When Abe and Dariela arrived with little Isaac, Jamie happily gave them her room and moved onto an air mattress in Dianne's room.

With all of her friends under one roof, Jamie felt better. There was still an ache in her chest each time she passed Mitch’s picture or caught the glint of her ring when she moved her hand. She spent every waking moment on the search, calling in every favor she was owed, pulling every string she could to get any new information. But there was none to be had - Mitch had simply vanished into thin air.

She knew what the police thought; she’d overheard their conversations during one of her frequent trips to the precinct. They all thought he’d left voluntarily, that he’d seen the opportunity to escape all of the pressure and expectations and taken it. Jamie just ignored them. They didn’t know Mitch - didn’t know how hard they’d fought to be together, how much they’d endured to get their happy ever after. He wouldn’t just leave, especially now that he finally had his daughter.

Clem was holding herself together well, considering. She’d taken the news hard, but rallied after a few weeks to help Dianne with the upkeep of the household while Jamie and Jackson spent day after day hunting down leads that often turned out to be dead ends. But without Mitch there and with Jamie being gone for most of the time, her relationship with her stepmother deteriorated. When Jamie was home the girl was civil but cold, choosing to spend her time in her room or with her grandmother. Dianne tried to smooth things over, claiming the strain on Clem’s teenage hormones and Jamie’s tendency to take so much blame onto her own shoulders. But Jamie knew better. She was losing Clem, and there was only one thing she could do to make things better.

A piece of Jamie died the day she finally laid down the search for good. It had been over a year with no leads or hints, and it was finally time to focus on her family. Clem had been surprisingly accepting of the decision. Jamie wondered how long ago the girl had given up, then decided she didn’t want to know. Clem had been through too much in her short life; it was probably best she’d accepted it and moved on. Jamie’s constant promises that Mitch could be found, that he would be home soon, had probably only caused the girl more pain. 

On the occasion of her fourteenth birthday, Clem made the decision to invite her paternal grandfather. Dianne wasn’t happy with it, but Jamie was still feeling guilty about neglecting her stepdaughter, so out the invitation went. She didn’t expect a reply, let alone a confirmed RSVP, but the morning of the party there was a knock on the door. Dianne had grumbled something and disappeared into the kitchen as Jamie went for the door.

“Hello Max,” she greeted as she opened it a bit wider than necessary for his entrance.

“Good to see you again,” Max stepped through with a grin. “Sad to hear I wasn’t invited to the wedding.” 

“It was kind of a last minute thing,” Jamie said apologetically as she returned the hug he offered. “Thanks for coming. Clem really wanted to meet you.”

Max clapped his hands together eagerly. “So where is my granddaughter?” For a fleeting moment, the expression his face was so similar to Mitch that Jamie felt her heart skip a beat. 

“In her room. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll go get her.” She gestured to the small living room where Jackson was catching up with Abe and Dariela. Jamie left Max with them and walked down the short hallway to Clem’s room.

“Clem, honey?” She knocked softly with two knuckles. “Your grandfather is here.”

The door opened a crack and Clem’s piercing eyes stared back. “What’s he like?”

“Why don’t you come see for yourself?” Jamie took a small step back, pleased when Clem slipped out into the hall next to her. She could hear chatter in the room beyond - Max was no doubt regaling his captive audience with another of his stories - but everyone fell silent when Jamie led Clem into the room. 

Max stood from his place on the couch. “You must be Clementine.”

Jamie nudged the girl gently to get her to respond. “Hi.”

Max either didn’t sense her unease or just decided to ignore it. “Well come on over here,” he flapped his hands wildly, “let me look at you.” He gripped her shoulders in his hands and studied her with a critical eye. Jamie kept close, ready to step in if she felt Clem was too uncomfortable with the scrutiny. She knew firsthand how...spirited Max could be. “You look a bit like your father,” Max said finally. “Though I imagine you take after your mom quite a bit.”

“Lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes,” Dianne announced from the doorway. Max turned abruptly with a charming smile, but Dianne just glowered back. “Max.”

“Dianne!” He took three steps toward her, then checked himself at her hard stare. “It’s wonderful to see you again, my dear.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Dianne returned dryly. “Jamie, honey, can you give me a hand with the dishes?”

“Of course.” Jamie squeezed Clem’s arm encouragingly and retreated to the kitchen with Dianne. “How are you holding up?” she asked the older woman. It couldn’t be easy trying to be civil with someone who had so deeply betrayed her. Jamie thought about her feelings toward Logan after his treachery had been revealed and knew that this was so much worse. Dianne and Max had been married, they had a son together, and Max had thrown it all away. Jamie knew Dianne still carried a lot of hurt where Max was concerned, and his presence was probably as painful as Mitch’s absence.

“I can suffer it, for Clem’s sake,” she answered flatly. She offered Jamie a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s just one day.”

One day turned into two, in part thanks to Clem’s offhand comment about wanting to spend more time with her grandfather. That was all it took for Max to invite himself to stay overnight rather than in the hotel room Jamie had booked for him. Abe and his family had been shuffled there instead and Max camped in the living room with Jackson. 

The next day, he asked if he could take Clem out for a day of bonding, and since Jamie could find no reason to say no she instead sent them out with instructions to be home before dinner. At Jackson’s request, she spent the day on herself. Dianne took her out for a girls' day at the spa, and Jamie realized it had been a long time since she’d had a day like that. It had been a long time for Dianne, too, she thought as she watched some of the stress of the last few days lift from her mother-in-law’s shoulders. 

They were hit with two surprises when they got home. Jackson had spent his day cleaning the apartment top to bottom, then preparing a meal for everyone. Dianne had hugged him so tightly, Jamie had laughed at the startled expression on his face. The second came from Max in the middle of dinner.

“I want to take Clem back to live with me in Finland.”

Silence fell over the table like an oppressive blanket. Utensils froze mid-air and conversations stopped abruptly as they all turned to Max with matching incredulous expressions.

“Are you insane?” Dianne finally broke the tension. 

“Absolutely not!” Jamie cried. 

The two women continued to berate the obviously-deranged man, but Clem’s quiet voice broke through and silenced both of them. “I want to go.”

Jamie was the first to answer. “Clem, honey, you can’t just move to Finland.”

“Why not?” she shrugged. “We talked a lot today, and I think this is what’s best for me.”

“You’re only fourteen, and you’ve been through a lot these last few years. I’m not sure you know what’s best for you right now.”

“And you do?” Clem challenged. “You’re not my mother, you can’t tell me what to do.”

“Clementine Marie Lewis!” Dianne stood up to her full height and tossed her napkin onto her plate. “I never met your mother, but I can't imagine she raised you to be so disrespectful to your family. Whether you see it or not, Jamie has done nothing but sacrifice for you and take care of you. Now, either you apologize and we can discuss this civilly or you can get up from this table and go to your room!” 

The girl stared back defiantly for a moment, then pushed her chair back and stood. “Fine. But it doesn’t matter. Grandpa Max already filed the paperwork.” She stomped away in a fit, leaving the rest of them staring at Max angrily.

“Max,” Jamie kept her tone even despite the turmoil within. She knew if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to control her actions and might do something she’d regret later. “What did Clem mean?”

Max, for his own part, seemed unfazed by the chaos he’d caused by his simple statement. “Clem and I did some talking today. She’s not happy here,” he told them plainly. “She lost her family in Maine, and now Mitch. I think she needs some distance from everything, and when I mentioned she could visit me in Finland she asked if she could just move there. So I called my lawyer and talked it over, and he sent the paperwork to the county clerk and we filed a motion for a custody hearing.”

“A custody…?” Jamie felt a little faint and sank back in her seat. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

Dianne, on the other hand, had had enough. “Get out.”

Max looked surprised at her command. “What?”

“You heard me,” Dianne reached out and grabbed his arm, bodily lifting him from the chair with a strength that belied her smaller frame. “I don’t want you near me or my family... _ever_. I’ll be damned if I sit back and watch you tear it apart again. Get out!” She shoved him toward the door, and when he tried to protest it was Jackson who pushed him the rest of the way out. The door shut behind them but Jamie hovered next to it to listen as Jackson spoke to Max.

“You know,” he commented with a deceptively calm tone, “when Mitch used to go on and on about how awful you were, I never really believed you could be that bad. You hurt him, and his mom, and he never forgave you for that. What do you think he’d say right now if he knew you were trying to take his daughter away from the only family she has left?”

“But they’re not,” Max argued. “I’m her family, too.”

“Who’s been in her life for two whole days! Jamie and Dianne have cared for her the last two years. Where were you?” He laughed humorlessly. “Oh, that’s right. Finland. Doing what you do best. Running away from your problems. So who do you think the judge is going to rule in favor of, hmm? A grandfather who never once - in fourteen years - attempted to contact his granddaughter, or the two women who have sacrificed everything to make sure she has a healthy and happy life?”

“But she’s not happy here!”

“Of course she isn’t,” Jackson barked. “She just lost her father. You wouldn’t understand what that does to a kid, because you weren’t around after you left your family. She’s angry and sad and confused, but that doesn’t mean she needs to move halfway across the world. What does that teach her? That she can just run away everytime something gets tough? Is that the kind of life you want for her? Your life?”

Jamie held her breath waiting for Max’s reply. When it came, his tone was much less spirited than before. “No, I guess not. I just...don’t like seeing her so sad.”

“Neither do I,” Jackson said. “But she’s resilient. She’ll pull through.”

There was a beat of silence, then, “Can you tell them I’m sorry? And I’ll call my lawyer tomorrow and cancel everything. I just wanted to help. Can you tell them that, too?”

“I’ll tell them,” Jackson promised. “Are you going to be alright tonight? Do you need me to take you to a hotel?”

“No,” Max said. “I’ll find my way. Thanks.”

Jamie jumped back as Jackson came in, and the moment the door was closed she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” she breathed into his shoulder.

“Of course,” he rubbed her back slowly. “You heard?”

“All of it,” she admitted. “You think he was telling the truth?”

“Yeah,” Jackson released her and walked with her back to the kitchen. When he told Dianne what had happened she hugged him, too.

“I’m gonna go talk to Clem,” Jamie announced. There was no answer when she knocked, and when she called Clem’s name she only received a muffled command to go away.

Jamie remembered the spiteful words the girl had spat across the dinner table and tried not to let it get to her. They had been struggling this past year, and Jamie bore a large chunk of the blame where that was concerned. She closed her eyes and laid her forehead against the door as tears stung her eyes. She sent a silent apology to Mitch out into the universe, wherever he was.

“Clem,” she spoke softly, both to keep her voice from carrying down the hall and into the ears of the others and to hide the fact that she was on the verge of breaking down. “Listen, I know you’re upset, and I understand. And that’s okay. If you need to be mad at me right now, then be mad at me. But I just want you to know that I love you, and I am always here if you need to talk. I told you once that I would never try to replace your mother, and that’s still true.” She swallowed around the sudden tightness in her throat and plowed on, unsure if Clem was even still listening through the door. “But I love you like you’re my own and I just want to keep you safe.” Having said her piece, Jamie stayed there for several long moments hoping that Clem would answer. 

When she didn’t, Jamie just sighed and pushed away. Maybe they could talk tomorrow after everyone had slept and gotten some distance from the emotions of the evening. She shuffled back down the hall and into the living room where Jackson and Dianne had already prepared a mug of tea for her. She accepted it gratefully and sank down into the armchair in defeat.

“Don’t take it personally,” Dianne reassured her. “Mitch went through a phase like this, too. It’s a teenager thing. She’ll come around.”

Jackson blew a breath through his nose in a muted laugh, and the two women looked at him curiously. At their stares, he explained. “It’s just, you made the comparison to Mitch, but her behavior reminds me a lot of Jamie.”

“How?” Jamie’s tone made it clear he should choose his next words carefully; she was in no mood to spar with him tonight.

“She spent - what? - two days with the man and decided to go live with him? Then when hit with resistance she digs her heels in. I’m not sure if impulsiveness and resilience are hereditary or learned, but she definitely reminds me of you. Or, at least, how you used to be when I first met you.” He seemed almost wary of his own words, like he was afraid of her response.

Jamie smiled softly to let him know she didn’t take offense. “If you think I was brash and impulsive when you met me, you should have known me back in college.”

As Dianne retired to her bedroom, the evening morphed comfortably into one of nostalgia. Jamie shared stories about her pre-Beast Rebellion years and Jackson answered with tales of life in Botswana. She was surprised to hear he’d once had a family of his own, many years ago. As he spoke of their deaths, about how helpless he'd been as he'd watched them die in a horrible accident, surprise turned to horror.

“Oh, Jackson, I’m so sorry. I had no idea…” The universe seemed hellbent on throwing them to the wolves at every opportunity, but everytime they seemed to come out stronger. 

He just shrugged one shoulder. “It was a long time ago,” he told her. “I’ve dealt with it and moved on.”

But knowing his past made Chloe’s death even more tragic than it already was. Neither of them could seem to catch a break, but thankfully they didn’t have to face anything alone anymore. She set her now-empty mug down and moved from the chair to the sofa cushion next to him. He seemed to sense her intent and let her curl against him comfortably as he lounged back. 

“You think things will ever be good again?” she asked him.

“Of course they will,” he squeezed her shoulder and let his head fall back against the cushions. “We just gotta take things one day at a time.”

Over the next few weeks, Jamie found herself repeating Jackson’s words to herself at least once a day. Interactions with Clem were still tense, but the teen had apologized for her behavior and never mentioned it again. She gave no indication that she’d heard Jamie’s impassioned speech through her door, but both of them made an effort to get things back to normal. When Max called to apologize again, Jamie let him talk to Clem for over an hour and they made tentative plans for her to visit next summer. When they’d hung up, Clem had hugged Jamie tightly and whispered her thanks. Jamie cried.

Eventually things settled down. Jamie went back to her book, and Clem and Dianne went back to school. They’d expected Jackson to go back to Michigan with the Kenyattas, or even back to Africa like he’d always mentioned, but he surprised them by finding a local job at a wildlife center and sticking around. She’d never tell him, but Jamie was glad he’d decided to stay. It was nice to have someone around to talk to who knew what she’d been through and who wasn’t afraid to talk to her about the hard things. 

Nothing could ever soothe the ache in her heart left by Mitch’s disappearance, but with Jackson around things didn’t seem so bad. She’d never give up hope that Mitch was alive - not until she was given absolute proof otherwise. All of the information they’d gathered on their search remained untouched on her laptop, and every now and then they’d sit together late at night and go over everything again. Even more rarely, they’d find something they’d missed and attack it from a new angle. But no matter how many times they did it, the end result was the same. Mitch had simply disappeared.

Jamie’s book, A Rumor of Crows, was released in the Spring of 2020 and it was clear from the first week of sales that it was going to be big. She soared to the top of the New York Times’ Bestseller List and, almost overnight, became a household name. Everyone wanted to know the story of how six people had saved the world. She’d given all of her friend’s pseudonyms, but it didn’t really matter. Thanks to their little press junket they were all virtually famous anyway. Still, it had been easier to write using false names, especially when she’d had to write particularly difficult scenes. 

Whispers began to reach them of a small group calling themselves the Shepherd Hunters. At first, Jamie didn’t think anything of it. She’d known some of the Shepherds had escaped the hybrid massacre - Mansdale and his team had been the ones to save Mitch and bring him back to her. Still, she couldn’t feel too sorry for them. It had been their plan that had sterilized the human race, and whatever fate befell them was entirely their own doing.

But then another whisper reached her, and this one she couldn’t ignore. Jackson’s name had popped up on a site listing known targets of the Shepherd Hunters, simply for the crime of being Robert Oz’s son. 

“It’s ridiculous,” she told him late one night, long after Clem and Dianne had gone to bed. “How can they possibly think you had anything to do with your father’s plan?” She was pacing back and forth in front of the couch, her hands fidgeting more and more with each pass.

“They don’t really seem very interested in rationalizing things, Jamie.” He was seated in the center of the sofa, his eyes tracking her. “They’re out for blood.”

That made her stop. “Your blood.” She could hear the tremor in her own voice as the fear of losing another of her friends came bubbling up. 

Jackson stood up and came around the low coffee table to wrap her in a hug. “Hey, it’s gonna be alright. Okay?”

“How?” She shoved away from him, her fear quickly morphing to anger. Anger, as she’d once told Clem, was an easier emotion to deal with. “How is you being on some insane most wanted list going to be okay? What if they come after you? What if they come here?”

He paused then, his face pinched in thought. “You’re right. I can’t stay here.”

“Jackson, no! That’s not what I -”

“If I stay here, I’m endangering all of you.”

Jamie reached out for him, desperate to hold on as though she could physically keep him here with her. “You can’t just leave.”

He pulled back out of reach and shook his head sadly. “Jamie, these people are killing Shepherds and anyone else they think is a threat. I can’t stay here and risk them hurting you or the others.”

“You’re not a threat!” She could see she wasn’t getting through; Jackson was the only person she’d ever met who could match her hardheadedness. They were a lot alike in many ways - whenever he set his mind on something he saw it through to the end, no matter what. 

“Listen,” he ran a hand down his face as he stifled a yawn. “It’s late. We’re both tired. Why don’t we get some rest and talk about this tomorrow?”

“Okay, just promise me you make any rash decisions before then?” This time when she reached for his hand he didn’t pull away. He squeezed her fingers gently.

“Alright.” 

She should have known - should have heard it in his voice, seen it in his eyes. But as she shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, the only indication she had that something was wrong was the silence and a folded paper sitting under her favorite mug on the table. Her fingers were trembling as she slipped it free and unfolded it, recognizing Jackson’s hasty scrawl immediately.

_Jamie,_

_There’s nothing to say except I’m sorry. Hurting you is the last thing I want to do, but I can’t stay knowing that it might put you or someone else in danger. I know you’re mad at me right now. I know that by leaving like this I have forever hurt our friendship, but I can live with that so long as I know you’re alive and safe. I can’t thank you enough for your company, your companionship and your love. ~~Maybe if things had worked out differently~~_

_Please don’t try and find me. I’m doing this to keep all of you safe. I will contact Abe and tell him what’s happened. I’m counting on you to keep him from coming after me. He’s got his family and his career to think about, and you need to focus on Clem. She’s a great kid, and she needs you more than either of you realize. I only wish I could be there to watch her grow up to be the wonderful young woman I know she’ll become, especially with you there to look out for her._

_I hope one day you can forgive me._

_With love,_

_Jackson_

Jamie could barely read the last few lines through the tears in her eyes. Her fingers clenched as the emotions swelled in her, but she checked the movement as the paper in her hand began to crumple. She laid his letter flat, smoothing out the wrinkles she’d made, and read it again. The shock of his words faded after the second reading, quickly replaced by a burning anger. But rather than boil up and spill over like her temper was prone to, this anger sank into her gut and settled, like sediment on a seabed. He’d abandoned them - abandoned _her_ \- after he’d promised to stay. 

Fresh tears stung her eyes and a few fell to the paper before she could stop them. Her gaze fell to the center of the page where he’d scratched out one line of text. She tried to pretend she didn’t know what he meant, but even as she forced the words into her mind she knew they were wrong. How many times in the past six months had she caught herself staring at him too long? How many times had she woken in a cold sweat with his name at the tip of her tongue? Maybe if they’d had more time, if he’d stuck around, they might have found solace in each other. No one could ever replace Mitch - she would never be rid of the searing ache in her heart each time she thought of him. But maybe - just maybe - she could have found some measure of peace with Jackson.

She’d never know now. He was gone. Soon the other two occupants of the apartment would wake, and Jamie would have to explain it all to them. Dianne would understand - she wouldn’t like it, she would be hurt, but she’d understand. Clem would take it harder. Jackson had been her only male role model the last year or so. He’d become not a father figure, but something like an older brother or an uncle to the girl. He was fiercely protective of her and she made him laugh, and she would be devastated at his loss.

Jamie felt another wave of anger hit her. How could Jackson do this to them? How could he abandon the only family he had left? Before she could think about it, she grabbed her phone and called him. It rang through to voicemail, so she tried again. Same result. She sent a text so long that it broke into four pieces on sending, but there was no response. Ten minutes passed, and when she tried to call again the number had been disconnected. He was gone.

She found him almost by accident one day, scouring the internet for information on the Shepherd Hunters. She’d stumbled on a forum for the hunters, and though their language was coded, it wasn’t difficult to decipher the meaning. They’d found Jackson hiding in Omaha under an alias ( _really Jackson? Abraham Morgan?_ ) and were offering a substantial reward to anyone who could bring him to justice. From their language, Jamie got the feeling Jackson wouldn’t live to stand trial for his imagined crimes.

So she got to work. She called every contact she still had, she taught herself about the ins and outs of coding and exploiting weaknesses. It took almost a year, but she finally manage to throw the Hunters off Jackson’s scent and let him vanish beyond the partially-built barrier.

Because the world wasn’t awful enough, hybrids from Pangaea had somehow made it to the west coast and were killing indiscriminately. Jamie had no idea how they’d gotten there, though the theories being tossed around on the net ranged from ridiculously implausible to terrifyingly realistic. The governments of North America had agreed to pool resources to construct a nearly 1200 mile long barrier running from Juneau, Alaska to Salina Cruz, Mexico. It was a tremendous task, one that would reportedly only take months to complete. Hundreds of teams of workers would construct their portion, linking up with other teams once finished to hasten the construction of the entire wall. The National Guard as well as government formed militias would be tasked with keeping the hybrids on the coast while the wall was going up, and would remain to shuttle all civilians that remained behind after the general call for evacuation was sounded.

The Barrier, now capitalized on all media outlets and government reports, was finished in September of 2022. The hybrids outbreaks that had started in San Diego had radiated outward, reaching as far north as Oregon’s southern border and as far west as Phoenix. The National Guard had been folded into Homeland Security, and the Barrier was officially under the jurisdiction of the IADG. For the most part, life was fairly normal east of the Rocky Mountains, but Jamie watched the news every day to keep up to date on the horrors taking place on the west coast. The death toll was still climbing as the military and civilian squads alike scrambled to evacuate anyone still remaining. Current estimates on total evacuation was still calculated in years, rather than months, due mostly to the stubborn nature of the more rural residents and the sheer area they had to cover.

The day after Clem graduated high school, Jamie received an envelope in the mail. It had no return address but there was no mistaking his handwriting. She opened it with shaky fingers and slipped the congratulations card addressed to Clem from within. There was another small piece of paper folded inside the card, this one bearing her name. Jamie opened it and smiled.

_Still alive. Still sorry. Stay safe._

_Dylan Green_

At least his new alias was more solid, and less traceable. Jamie had made sure of that herself. She’d gotten good at manipulating the rapidly growing technology boon that had sprung up as a result of the scramble to solve human sterility. Scientists and technologists from around the world were collaborating on an unprecedented scale to combat the issue, but they were no closer than they were six years ago. Abe had gotten his doctorate the year before on a fast track program designed to add more minds to the global think tank. She knew he was working as a reproductive endocrinologist in Michigan, though through their emails they shared more personal information than professional. She knew he’d want to know the latest news about Jackson, so she logged on to her secure server and sent a quick message.

_The munchkin and I are doing well. We can’t come for a visit now, but hopefully soon. Love, Jamie._

It was short, but it relayed the necessary information. Jackson was okay, but still underground and unable to come home. She’d added “hopefully soon” to the end to let Abe know her own work was going well.

Under an alias of her own, Jamie had ingratiated herself with the Shepherd Hunters some time ago. At first, it had been a good way to keep tabs on Jackson’s whereabouts and throw off the scent however she could. But the more involved she became, the more she began to sympathize with them. They were angry at the injustice the Shepherds had wrought on the world, and if the governments of the world weren’t going to do anything, then they would. The Hunters were officially listed as a terrorist organization, but Jamie knew there wasn’t a federal agency in the country that would actively pursue them so long as they continued to bring Shepherds to justice. 

There were two that continuously eluded every effort at capture. The Falcon had been number one on the hit list for almost two years; every time they thought they had him, it turned out to be a decoy. There were so many theories on who the Falcon could be, each one too high in power to be reached. Number Two - known only as “Mr. Duncan” - was a virtual ghost. Unlike the Falcon, no one had an inkling who it could be, and every member of Mansdale’s team had been accounted for (except the man himself). Jamie wondered if Mansdale was Mr. Duncan, and had cast her net for any feelers. She wanted Mansdale herself.

Jamie had come to the conclusion that there were only two entities who could be responsible for Mitch’s disappearance. One was Reiden Global, motivated by revenge for their usurpation of the cure. They’d managed to come out of the court of public opinion relatively unscathed, wounded but not defeated. They’d rallied in the last few years, using their extensive resources to aid the search for a solution to sterilization. They’d even managed to get back in the government’s good graces, and though they were not nearly the powerhouse they had been in their prime, they still held considerable sway.

But Reiden wasn’t her most likely suspect. When Mitch had disappeared, Reiden was still buried under a mountain of lawsuits and injunctions, swamped with so many fines and fees that Jamie was fairly certain revenge was the last thing they were thinking about. So that left the Shepherds.

Mitch and his friends had been the ones to unleash the hybrids on the island in the first place, so rushed in their getaway that they hadn’t really considered the consequences of opening Section K to the rest of the facility. It was possible they wanted vengeance for their fallen comrades, but that wasn’t their likeliest reason for kidnapping Mitch. Before the massacre at Pangaea, the Shepherds had endured for hundreds of years, comprised of scientists and technicians from all fields and all walks of life. Now, with most of their lead scientists dead, they would need to rebuild. People like the Shepherds - who hadn’t even blinked or hesitated to commit genocide in the name of protecting the planet - wouldn’t be above kidnapping the people they needed to further their agenda.

Jamie had formulated her theory one lonely evening after Jackson had left, and had spent almost every waking hour since scouring the net for any information that would support her hypothesis. There were reports from across the globe - scattered among the chatter about hybrids and barriers and martial law - of people going missing. A geneticist from Sweden, an electrical engineer from Hong Kong, a physicist from Paraguay. Taken individually, the reports were little more than footnotes in their respective cities’ police ledgers. But Jamie knew each case by heart, knew their names and faces and every other minute detail. She had alerts set to notify her on changes in the cases, algorithms set up to search for any mention of their names in the news or elsewhere. Because if one of them was ever found, they might be able to lead her to Mitch.

Which brought her back to Mansdale. He was the only Shepherd from the island left to be found. The Falcon was untouchable, climbing to the highest ranks in an effort to protect himself from the Hunters’ long reach. But if Mansdale was Duncan, then finding Mansdale would ultimately lead them to the Falcon. And maybe - just maybe - if the Hunters took out their top two targets they would forget about Jackson.

On the ninth anniversary of Mitch’s disappearance, Jamie packed a bag and drove seventy five miles east to her hometown. Her aunt and uncle welcomed her with open arms, took her things and pushed a bouquet of lilies into her hand with a kiss and a promise to have dinner ready when she returned.

It had been a year since she’d set foot in the cemetery where her mother was buried. As she crouched down in front of the stone plaque she wiped away the leaves and dirt that had gathered, then laid the bouquet down atop Nancy’s name.

“Hey, Mom.” It was getting warmer by the day, and the humidity of a southern spring didn’t help. As Jamie sat there and spoke about everything that had happened over the past year, she could feel the sweat soaking through her shirt. But she didn’t budge until she was through, enduring the discomfort for the small measure of peace she gained from the telling. 

“Mitch is still missing,” she said to the wind. She refused to believe he was dead - he was no good to anyone that way, and she was sure she’d have heard about it by now if he was. Whoever had him was keeping him away from his family on purpose. “I thought I was close last October. The Hunters caught Mansdale’s right hand man, but they dispatched him before anyone could question him. Sometimes I don’t know if it’s such a great idea for me to be involved with them. But they’re the only way I know to find Mansdale, and when I do he’s going to pay.” She still had no real evidence that Mansdale was behind Mitch’s disappearance, but until a better theory presented itself it was all she had. 

“Clem’s doing great at college,” Jamie moved on to brighter subjects. “She said she might even be able to graduate a full semester early. Of course, that won’t be till next Christmas. Hopefully Mitch will be home by then.” She reached up and grasped the ring dangling from a silver chain around her neck. Having grown tired of answering questions about her husband to nosy strangers, she’d stopped wearing it on her hand some time ago. But she couldn’t bring herself to simply tuck it away in a jewelry box, so she’d slipped it on a chain and wore it under her shirt every day. It’s steady weight against her breastbone was a constant reminder that she should never give up hope. 

The sun was beginning to set behind the copse of trees that surrounded the cemetery, so Jamie stood and stretched her cramped legs. “I’ll see you next time, Mom. I love you.” She lingered for a moment more before turning to walk the short distance to her car. She’d spend a few days with her family, bask in the warmth and safety that came with sleeping in her childhood home, and then return to her life in Baton Rouge.

The summer came and went as Jamie toiled away on her second novel. This one was entirely fiction, but it helped her stay sane whenever she grew too focused on the search for Mansdale. Just before Christmas she received an encrypted email from someone she didn’t recognize. It contained only coordinates (that she figured out led to an abandoned airport hangar in Houston) and four words that froze the blood in her veins.

_Sorry about your toe._

She hadn’t heard a peep from Logan for over nine years. He’d sent her an email after the wedding offering his congratulations, though it felt hollow. She’d replied with a quick thank you and a hope that he was doing well. He never responded. If he was contacting her now, after so many years of silence, then it was probably important. Or, she mused, important to him. Her curiosity got the best of her and she told him she’d meet him in three days. 

She had the cab drop her a few blocks away, on the south side of the old regional airport. Finding a gap in the fence wasn’t too hard - it was clear no one had been here for many years. She let her phone guide her to the right hangar, a large looming structure in the dark. There were no cars outside and all of the windows were blacked out. Adrenaline flooded her system as she ran through all of the possibilities in her head, each more ludicrous than the last. She had almost convinced herself that Mansdale had set this all up in order to lure her out into the open when the door on the side of the building opened.

The figure silhouetted in the doorway was familiar, and when he raised his arm to beckon her over she nodded. Logan stepped back to let her in, and Jamie was pleasantly surprised by the warmth that hit her the moment she crossed the threshold. Logan hovered nearby as she stamped her feet and shed her coat, obviously stalling as she searched for something to say.

He hadn’t changed much, other than the mustache that was growing in above his upper lip. His hair was still shorn almost to the scalp, and she thought his face was a bit more filled out than before. The years had obviously been good to him, and she wondered idly what he’d been doing since he’d disappeared after Maine.

“Hi, Jamie.” He was apparently done watching her stall.

“Hi.” She glanced around the small office curiously. Unlike the rest of the airport, this hangar seemed to be well kept and operational. A bank of large screens hung on one wall as surprisingly clear camera images blinked across them. It was how he’d known she was outside, she guessed. A small desk sat in the opposite corner, and the laptop on its surface was covered in files and papers. No personal touches could be found, not even a generic photo or painting on the wall. There was another door on the wall to her right, and judging from its placement it probably opened into the large hangar beyond.

“What is this place?” she asked finally.

“Headquarters,” Logan answered. “I’m a part of a special operations team. This is one of our lesser used bases.”

“Used for what?”

“That’s classified. But I can tell you that you and I, we have the same goal.” For a moment she thought he was talking about Mitch, then he moved to his computer and hit a key. Mansdale’s image filled one of the screens, and Jamie began to understand.

“You’re a Hunter?”

“No,” Logan shook his head quickly. “The Shepherd Hunters are unsanctioned. Rogue. And they don’t want justice, they want vengeance. The organization I work for now, they want to find the Shepherds so they can be held accountable. So they can stand trial for their crimes.”

The idea that Logan was even talking about accountability and justice hit her as ironic, but she kept that thought to herself. Mostly. “So you’re legit now?” Jamie spat derisively. “Do they know about your past?”

“No,” he told her honestly. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell them about it.”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

Logan just smirked cryptically. “You will.”

Jamie scoff was met with a knowing smile, and Logan gestured for her to open the second door. She almost didn’t, just to see that smug smirk fall from his face, but in the end her inherent need for answers made her reach for the knob.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. It was their plane, the one that had been their home for almost a year. 

“Surprise.”

Jamie ignored Logan’s smug tone and walked around to the open bay doors. Two vehicles were parked inside, though both were far newer than the SUVs that had come with the plane originally. She stepped inside slowly, giving herself time to process the wave of nostalgia and heartache that hit her. She glanced at the door at the top of the stairs and almost turned away; she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to step into the lab - into his lab - knowing he wouldn’t be there.

“We’ve made some upgrades,” Logan said quietly, as though he sensed the heaviness of her thoughts. “Wanna see?” She appreciated the verbal prod he was giving her, though she’d never tell him. Her pride wouldn’t let her admit her fears, so she steeled herself and slid the door back.

The chill in the air was the first thing she noticed. The lab had never been cold to her before, not with him here. No matter what was going on in her head, no matter how the cold crept into her bones, she could always come to the lab - to him - and find warmth. But it was like a tomb now, cold and silent. There was no comforting hum of machinery or the bubbling of Moe’s tank filter. The faint guitar notes straining through earbuds and gentle rhythmic tapping of fingers against stainless steel were only in her head, and when she took another breath the oppressive silence slammed into her. She almost took a step back to get away, but Logan’s presence stopped her.

“The IADG contacted us a few years ago and asked if we wanted the plane,” he said. “They were going to scrap it, but that didn’t feel right. So I told my boss to take it. We’ve overhauled the pilot interface.” He gestured for her to keep walking, and she made a beeline for the back hall with him right behind her. He took the lead as they ascended the spiral stairs to the cockpit, which Jamie was surprised to see wide open.

The door had been removed, along with both seats and most of the instrumentation. She turned to Logan with a puzzled frown, but before she could ask he spun around with a tablet in his hand.

“The entire plane can be controlled with this,” he told her. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“The entire plane?”

“Yep,” he grinned. “You don’t even have to be in the plane. It has a pretty good range, so you can warm up the engines and do pre-flight checks before you even get to the airport.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Jamie stepped back and shook her head. “Why are you showing me all of this?”

Logan’s smile fell and he tucked the tablet back into a small slot next to the cockpit. “I know you want Mansdale,” he said as he turned back toward her. “And I know why.”

“You don’t know anyth -”

“I know you think Mansdale is Duncan, or knows who it is. I know you think he can lead you to Mitch, or at least point you in the right direction. Am I warm?” Jamie just crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing. “Look, I know you and I don’t have the best relationship -”

“We don’t have any relationship!” she interjected.

“ -but, I think I can help you.”

She tried to gauge his sincerity, but Logan had always been hard to read. It was how he’d fooled her in the first place. He seemed earnest enough, but then again he always had. “How?” she asked finally. “Why?”

“I know where Mansdale is,” he answered her first question. “As for the second question...I want to bury the hatchet. I want us to be friends again.”

“That presumes we were ever friends in the first place.”

He looked genuinely hurt at her words. “We were, or at least I thought we were.”

“Was this during the weeks where you were selling us out to Davies right under our noses? Because if so, you have a very weird definition of friendship.”

“Look,” he sighed in exasperation, “I’m offering an olive branch here. You and I take the plane and go find Mansdale. You can question him, see if he knows anything about where Mitch is. After that, I deliver him to my bosses.”

Jamie couldn’t help one last jab. “I bet bringing in Mansdale would score you serious brownie points. Maybe even a promotion.”

His exasperation grew to irritation. “You want in or not? Because I’m leaving in an hour either way.”

Her answer came almost immediately. “I’m in.” There was no way she was going to let this opportunity slip by. She was certain Mansdale could lead her to Mitch, and until she knew for certain that there was no hope - that he was truly gone - she wouldn’t give up.

Mansdale had holed himself up in what Jamie graciously deemed a hovel in Guatemala. Jamie had expected a team to meet them, but Logan surprised her again.

“Just you and me,” he said as he handed her a rifle from the gun locker. “You still remember how to use one of those things?”

“Sure,” she gripped the stock a little too hard. “Point and click, right?”

He smirked as he checked his ammo. “Right.”

The moment Logan had flashed his badge at locals, they pointed toward the north side of town then bolted. Mansdale was eating breakfast when they burst through the door. An elderly couple cowered in the corner crying and pleading in Spanish, but Mansdale just looked up from his bowl calmly.

“Took you long enough.”

Logan had made other upgrades, too, including a long cell in the bowel of the plane. They dumped Mansdale in rather roughly before slamming the door.

“We’ll be back to talk about things in a few hours,” Logan sneered. “Thank you in advance for your cooperation.”

As far as intimidating lines went, it wasn’t the best. Jamie followed Logan up to the main level, then raised her eyebrows in question.

He shrugged. “What?” 

“‘Thank you in advance for your cooperation?’”

“Best I could do on short notice.”

“He’s not gonna tell us anything.” Jamie began pacing around underneath the stairs that led to the top level. “He’s been on the run for almost ten years. He’s smart and resourceful. We can’t come at him directly.”

“So now you’re an expert at interrogation?” Logan had leaned back against the railing with his arms crossed over his shoulder. When Jamie turned, he just waited expectantly.

“I used to be an investigative journalist, remember?” she countered. “It means I’m good at getting information from people.” She waited a beat, knowing her next request would be met with resistance. “I need to talk to him alone.”

Predictably, Logan shook his head. “No way!”

“Look, either he knows where Mitch is or he doesn’t. Either way, the faster we learn what he knows, the faster you can take him and I can go find Mitch.”

“You’re gonna find Mitch on your own?”

“If I have to.” There was no hesitation or uncertainty in her voice. He was out there somewhere, she could feel it, and she wouldn’t rest until he was found. This was the closest she’d gotten in nine years and she wouldn’t let the opportunity escape.

“Why don’t we both go down there?” Logan offered. “Good cop, bad cop. If you want, I’ll let you be bad cop.”

Jamie cringed at his suggestive undertone and met his glare with her own. “Because you hit him pretty hard with that rifle, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like you. You go down there, he’s gonna shut down and refuse to tell us anything.”

“He’s probably not going to tell us anything anyway,” Logan said. “I say we let him sweat for a while. You hungry? I saw a little cafe on our way into town. I’ll buy breakfast.”

Jamie almost refused. She was so close to finally finding out what had happened to Mitch; she wasn’t even thinking about food. But then a plan began to form, and she changed her mind.

“Fine,” she barked after a few long seconds, hoping to seem reluctant. “But the moment we get back…” She let the rest of the sentence hang, knowing he would understand her meaning.

But he was so relieved she’d accepted his invitation that her motive went undetected. “Sure, sure.” 

A quick “bathroom break” was long enough for her to go upstairs and swipe the plane’s tablet. Logan had run her through the basics on the flight down, so she felt relatively confident she could at least get airborne. The rest she could figure out later. 

It was almost ridiculously easy to lose Logan once they were in the town proper. He underestimated her, thought she had lost her edge after almost a decade of a “regular” life. But the instincts were still there. That same drive that had kept her alive in Canada, kept her moving when all hope seemed lost, allowed her to separate herself from him quite easily in the morning bustle of the marketplace. All it took was a frantic plea to the local authorities - her Spanish was rusty but it was enough to get her point across - and Logan suddenly had more than he bargained for. 

She stayed only long enough to watch him get taken into custody, watch him struggle as he searched for her in the crowd. Did he know what she’d done - know that she’d lied to his face and to the police in order to get what she wanted? Did he feel betrayed, hurt that she could do this after he’d helped her? Probably, but she couldn’t think about that right now. She shoved aside the sick feeling forming in the pit of her stomach and raced for the plane, her fingers already tapping out the pre-flight sequence on the tablet. Right now, her sole focus was to find Mitch no matter the cost. She could deal with the moral ramifications later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN OVER A MONTH. Geez, I'm sorry guys. Life sucks and this chapter was challenging, as I wanted to span the decade between S2 and S3 while not glossing over important moments. Every time I thought I had reached an endpoint, something else popped up. I'm not sure if I want to keep going episode by episode or if I should condense S3 into longer chapters. Probably that first one, just so I can keep everything straight.
> 
> As always, a huge thanks to those loyal few who are still with me and who still brighten my inbox with positivity. Reviews are life blood and I simply could not - and would not - do this without all of you. So thank you in advance for your cooperation. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a collection of chapters exploring the time between the end of Season 2 and the beginning of Season 3. Expect some time jumps and shorter installments, which (hopefully) means shorter time between posts. Thank you to everyone who's still on this ride with me! Your continued support means the world to me.


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